Funny, I don't remember asking for patience....

Often people in Christian circles joke that you never ask God for more patience because it seems like God answers prayer by giving you an opportunity to practice something, rather than just, like, cosmically Zapping! you with some characteristic.

This week, I was given opportunities for patience about 127 times too many.

Let's just discuss Thursday.

I get up and pick out clothes, ever careful not to lay down anything that might trigger an "incident" from my cat Chloe.

Back story: I was fortunate enough to work from home quite a bit this year before starting my current project. When I went back to a regular schedule of being out of my house the majority of time, Chloe expressed her displeasure by peeing on anything I left on the floor. Or, back of the chair for that matter. Dramatic and passive-agressive: she and I are meant for each other.

So then, I forget to grab my badge for work and didn't realize that until I was already in gridlock traffic. The badge grants me access in and out of my office so I knew I'd need to rely on the girl that sits at the front desk to continually open the door for me all day. I get to the door -

and she's not at the desk.

And there is a visitor inside the door waiting on the couch so I knock and peer through the window, but he is clearly a Rules-Following type of guy and he looks at me sheepishly and gives me a "I am not allowed to move from my spot, ma'am" apologetic look and peers anxiously around for a staffer to open the door.


So I finally get in and get settled in my desk --

and our internet goes down. No email, no access to our shared file folders, no access to the world wide web. Basically paralyzing us work-wise. So I try to at least print a document for a meeting I have later. And I hit print, walk the quarter mile to the printer (seriously, I'm getting shin splints in this building, it's so spread out), and I get to the room where the printer is

WHICH, by the way, is labelled: REPRODUCTION. Not copy room.  Not Document Mass Production Room - simply: Reproduction. Which instantly conjures up images of those charts of the female and male bodies when your teachers tried to explain sex education without turning red when you were 11....
Anyway, I walk in to the room where babies are made the copy room and see that the printer not only isn't printing - but it's sitting there with it's DOORS OPEN looking like a complete mess with no one around that appears to be fixing it. I attempt to just close the door - and it won't even close.

Lovely! No computer, no print outs. Fine. I'll just go to my meeting. Then go get lunch.

So I get down to the Potbelly's that I typically eat at - and the line is longer than I've ever seen it. Ugh.

I finally get my sandwich and pass the McDonald's on my hike back to my office (mind you, this is all in the same building as my office. Seriously, I need a segway or roller blades or something to survive here) and I think - I deserve a mocha. So I wait in ANOTHER line, order my drink, and take my place against the wall while I wait for my order to by yelled out amongst all the others.

And I wait.

And I wait......

For. A. DRINK.

So finally I get the cashier's attention like, um, ...--Mocha much? And she goes:

"Oh, you get THOSE over at that OTHER counter"

Ah. I should've just known that I suppose! Or maybe I need to start asking at every register I'm at, "I'm sorry, do you want me to wait here for the food I just paid you for or is there some satellite location where my particular order might be arriving at?"

So I walk over to the other counter - and no one is there. And I see a lady refilling napkin holders nearby so I ask her where this special place is at which Only The Mochas are to be picked up. And she lazily glances up at a screen - WHICH HAS HAD MY ORDER ON IT THE WHOLE TIME - and she mumbles, "Here".


So here's where I definitely am not so much learning patience as I become Exhibit A for How NOT To Handle Patience-Testing Situations. So there is some eye-rolling, I may have even complained aloud a little. And it takes her forever to finally walk around the counter, but I finally get my drink and head back up to my office.

And the girl isn't at the front desk again.


So now I'm left sadly clutching my food and mocha, until another person gets off the elevator and feels sorry for me and lets me in.

Then I have a "challenging situation" with someone who reports to me and I end up leaving work earlier than I intended, just so I can go run off stress. And it's raining, which makes my chosen path so full of puddles I keep having to stop and prance around them, breaking up my destressing therapy.

I'm seriously scared to ever see the day I actually DO pray for patience.....