If you have been reading here, you know I have been exploring deeply the Human Design situation of being an emotional projector and thus –– much like a Vampire unable to enter a home unbidden –– being required to WAIT for invitations for all major things in life.
And in typically hilarious fashion, the Universe tested this today, with mass media flavor in terms of style and subject.
Perhaps my greatest mission in life is upgrading Susan’s TV situation. She currently has the very first TiVo ever made (the Smithsonian may just want it), and last week we ordered her the premium package.
Of course, this required an unexpected additional trip to the Comcast store for some card insert, one that TiVo definitely did not tell me about when researching the process.
And then mid-installation, the current modem basically committed ritual suicide, realizing that at nearly 4 years old its time in this technology-driven world was over. [Actually, if we were to have paid them for a renewed service agreement, they would have given us the reset codes; ie, Cisco was holding our internet ransom for $39.]
Opting to get the new model with FREE EXPEDITED delivery for the next day, I awoke with visions of installing it and the TiVo in time for tonight’s Millionaire Matchmaker Reunion Part II episode.
Instead at 9:05 I got a call from India asking to confirm the correct billing and shipping address (which are different but were confirmed yesterday). When I finally got an operator on the phone, I learned that they hadn’t even shipped the modem yet.
Mercury Retrograde shenanigans ensue, requiring probably 8 different calls (twice we were cut off by lost connections) and being told that every supervisor was in a meeting. Total time expenditure: about 45 minutes to an hour of WAITING on hold.
How did I spend this time waiting?
Getting increasingly resentful and irate so that when I finally got someone, I really was reacting as though they had pillaged my village rather than kept me on hold for 12 minutes.
I sorta realized midway that this was ideal waiting practice and managed to sneak in two sets of push-ups (as per convict conditioning).
And it was not at all lost on me that I had just watched OUTSOURCED on Sunday and loved it completely, and felt such a deep, deep connection with all those wonderful people working hard at an international call center.
Almost none of this carried over as I was practically threatening lawsuits over having confirmed and order yesterday and now being made to reconfirm it all on the day it was supposed to be delivered. [Can I sue someone for wasting my time? Or just plain annoying me?]
I am not yet the Beautiful Waiter I long to be.
I remember in NYC, a great friend had a big party for her husband and I think used the MODEL/MODEL BARTENDERS agency to staff the party. It was sort of ridiculous and sort of great, but this is not the kind of Beautiful Waiter I want to be.
I was reminded again of how in MIRACLE IN RWANDA, my play with the astonishing Leslie Lewis Sword, that when Immaculée is hiding from the killers in the pastor’s bathroom for 90 days with 7 other women, she decides to learn French.
That’s the kind of Waiter I want to be.
Rather than worrying or getting bitter and resentful while waiting (both while on hold and in general), I should be learning Italian.
And reviewing all the anatomical drawing stuff, I love.
And doing sets of push-ups (that’s probably what model/bartenders would do, actually).
And basically, finding Serenity in that moment.
Here’s the “good” news: I’m almost positive the Universe has another set of waiting circumstances lined up for me in, oh say, five minutes.
Let’s hope I conjugate some verbs, do some crunches, practice some pranayama, so that I, too, can really become a BEAUTIFUL WAITER.
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