W.T.F.???

No, I'm not saying what you are thinking... what I'm saying is, "WHERE'S THE FIRE???!?!!"  I mean, why is everyone in such a rush???

Did the guy have to fall on his horn because I didn't go around the city bus?  Did that woman have to leave two more messages for me at 10:17 and 12:23 because I did not return her call from 8:39, which was a follow up from her 7:43 e-mail message?  Does the lady at the bagel store have to tell me that I'd better get there before 9:45 to pick up my order even though they close at 10?

Where is the fire?!?!

Wouldn't it just be nice for one day... heck, I'd even take one hour... just to not rush around, stressing out about what's next?  Trying to figure out, "what can I squeeze in?"  Asking, "What can I do quickfastandinahurry?"

I believe it is counterproductive and contrary to being organized, content and peaceful...

Besides, some things you just have to do slow...

For example, you know that you can't cook grits fast... just as the guy in "My Cousin Vinny" says, "no self-respecting Southerner uses instant grits"... and everyone knows that you really can't make the Polaroid pic develop any faster by shaking it in the air... did I just drop a bomb on my age???... and gosh-dern-it-all, no matter how many times my kids ask me, "are we there yet?", it still takes more than two hours, a Shrek movie, a bathroom stop and a run through the drive thru for a happy meal to make it from NJ to VA in my mom-mobile.

So why the rush?  I'll tell you why... I blame it on the microwave.  From the moment we figured out that you did not have to stand over the stove... flicking that Jiffy Pop tray 'til the foil top swirled into a balloon... but just press a button and voila (you know the rest)...it all went downhill.  Think about it... it's like the loss of innocence...

So what does our timer-synced society do?  Does it free me up to used the "time saved" to kick my feet up and watch that episode of American Pickers stored on my DVR?  Do I get a chance to snuggle up with my baby boy for that one last rhyme sequence from Green Eggs and Ham?  Do I spend the seven minutes gained by cooking instant vs. regular oatmeal writing my Aunt Minnie who, from my childhood days 'til now, sends me a birthday card with crisp dollars in it?  I would bet my bottom, or a dollar, or my bottom dollar that the answer is a big old, capital N-O.

So what am I to do?  I declare, I cannot exist like this...I am going on a "fast" strike...  I will deliberately drive the 25 mile per hour limit, as posted, and I will wait patiently behind the person making a left turn instead of swerving into the bike lane, jut missing the dude imagining himself to be Lance Armstrong... (Hey man... if you are reading this, sorry that you ended up in the bushes that time... but hey, they were probably softer than the side of my car...)  I will make homemade biscuits on a Wednesday night instead of my usual evening affair with the "dough boy" and his Grands.

I will sip, not gulp.  I will walk, not run.  I will chew, not scarf down.  I will read, not skim.  In essence, I will take my sweet time and enjoy each minute, each action, each experience and I won't feel guilty for tossing a bucket of water on the "fire".