It’s 9 o’clock on Saturday night, and I’m waiting for guests to arrive. Everything is done, set up, ready for people to come and celebrate in my apartment. The chips are in the bowls. The plastic cups are out. I’ve got that anxious feeling… you know what I mean- where in your head you’re like, “No one’s gonna show up…” and at the same time, “People won’t show up til late, I bet. 10-10:30.” Either way, it’s nerveracking to wait.
I hate waiting.