Today I am Writing: On Waiting

Two days ago, I decided to make cookie dough, the kind you leave in your fridge overnight to firm up. Yesterday was a day where making cookies just didn't fit, and so that dough just sat there.

Today, after the oven had finished heating up my lunch, I had the aha! thought of: Now would be a good time to make those cookies, since 350 degrees was ready and waiting.

I sliced up the dough, placed it on the baking sheets, slid it all into the oven, and suddenly discovered I am so tired, I can barely stand up.

A nap sounded lovely. (A nap, quite truthfully, was scarily urgent.)

But there were those dang cookies. Not yet done.

And so, the nap had to wait, and I desperately needed to find things to distract myself from my falling-down fate.

I went to the shed and got the goo-gone, to remove the sticker on the book that has been sitting around. I put the gifts I'd bought into the gift closet. I put the granola into a smaller container. I washed a dish left in my sink. I made a list, for tasks to be done tomorrow. I cleared off my table, putting all the little things away, and then I placed the cooling rack in their place.

It all felt very rewarding, these little things done that have been hanging around to do.

And that's when I noticed it: While waiting for the cookies to bake, I got some things in place.

And isn't that the nature of waiting? The promise given but not yet granted, the dream born but long deferred. In the waiting, the little things get organized. Rearranged, readied.

So that when the cookies come out of the oven, the table is cleared, and you have a place to put them.