Wondering About Waiting

Lately, Marcus Mumford's lyrics echo in my ears promising repeatedly to "wait for me" in melodious tones, while Fitzgerald informs me that "the girl really worth having won't wait for anybody" and Joan Juliet Buck agrees, telling me that women with short hair "look as if they have somewhere else to go" encouraging me to refuse a state of limbo and forge forward. But is it foolish or noble to be caught waiting--I feel like Don Quixote attacking windmills with the nebulous future my own ferocious giant. So often it's as if these years are an in-between stage; that point in life where I'm still becoming what I will be, my life still establishing itself trying to figure out when habits become patterns and patterns define lifestyle. I live independently, I pay bills, socialize on occasion, but it doesn't feel like "the rest of my life" yet. I'm not completing a dozen DIY projects to personalize my home, since I only barely signed a year's lease and might end up hundreds of miles away from this state once those 365 days have run their course. It is as if there's still something unfinished about my person. I suppose I just want to wake up one day and say, "this is it: I'm a spinster" or I'm a hermit, or whatever I end up being (none of those terms are offensive to me). I know that for many people it's fluid; we perform different jobs at different points in time--even if we choose to be parents we eventually end up as empty-nesters. Yet, still many people decide on some form of defining characteristic in how they see themselves and their role in the world. I'm still waiting for that characteristic to surface...But perhaps I relate best to Oscar Wilde's words in The Importance of Being Earnest, "If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life." (Not the first time I felt a kinship with Gwendolen.)

Outfit details:
UO hat
thrifted sweater


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