The Mathematician's mom Suzanne is a truck driver. This fact often elicits a blend of shock and awe from people. It's tough work but she's been at it for over 30 years, since before power steering and commonplace automatic transmissions in rigs, meaning she's nothing short of a badass.
I, on the other hand, hate driving. I dislike it so intensely, I've taken to telling people I don't know how to drive so they'll never expect me to take the wheel. Whenever I do happen to be stuck behind the wheel, as I was while running an errand for a PR client yesterday afternoon, I think of Suzanne. I think of her especially when I'm stuck in traffic and wonder, "How does she tolerate this? This endless waiting to get from point 'A' to point 'B'?"
Last night as I waited for my last table to finish their dinner, then finish their coffee, then put their credit cards in the check presenter, then sign their charge slips, I realized: waitressing is the exact same thing. Endlessly waiting for someone else to finish doing something else. All this waiting, something I've done since I've been old enough to work essentially, as I wait for my 'real career' to take off.
Perhaps I've finally figured out why they call it "waiting"?