"Waiting For My Real Life To Begin"

Perhaps it's due to my age — or, more precisely, my current station in life — but I don't feel like my life has much stability. Over the past six years, I've moved almost as many times and there looks to be no end yet in sight.

But, I'm not exactly a person who looks too far ahead, so a lack of a planned out "future" doesn't really bother me.

Case in point? My unexplainable habit of subsisting in a diet rich in beans and Cheerios, without worrying about what they're going to do to my digestive system (or my wife while she tries to sleep next to me).

What seems to give me trouble is not the big picture, but the waiting game that we've been playing in small leaps and bounds for the last three years. First it was knowing that we were going to move somewhere for Stacey's internship. Then it was waiting to actually go once we found out where it would be. Now, it's waiting these last few weeks until the internship is completed and we move in with Stacey's parents outside of Atlanta. We know where we're going, but we've gotta sit on our hands until we go — again. Next Spring, we'll be playing the same game again, as Stacey's job next year is again only a one-year commitment.

Would it be too much of a stretch to compare this seemingly unending test of endurance to the experience of a lengthy prison sentence? It's madness, I tell you!

...uh, sorry, a fifth grade public speaking student just called. He wants his over-inflated sense of self-importance back.