My Music Journal 2025: September 27, 2025

 

Saturday, September 27, 2025

Time: 11:35 AM
Song:  Waiting for the Bus
Artist: Violent Femmes
Mode of Consumption: Listening to MP3s on shuffle while cleaning the bathroom.

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/3PBgShlI7zuQNafzIrQ9fj?si=653d0633fcac452e

I used to wait on our front porch for the school bus in the mornings. At least in junior high, I did. 

During grade school, the bus always turned around in our driveway, so I could stay in our warm kitchen on cold mornings, and when the bus turned into the lane, I could sprint out the door and get there without causing any sort of a delay.

In junior high, we had a different route and a different driver, so she would stop on the roadway. The front porch faced the roadway, and when I saw the bus coming, I could be at the road by the time she stopped. 

Waiting for something is pretty foreign to me now. 

When it’s time to leave for work, I jump in the jeep and go. Most mornings, I have things pretty much timed so that when I am dressed and ready, it’s time to go. So, no waiting. 

Waiting for the work shift to be done, isn’t really a thing either. Most days I am busy enough, that while I want it to be 5 PM, I’m not sitting there watching the clock tick. I remember doing that quite often in school, watching the second hand and minute hand move, wishing for it to get to the point that the day was over. 

I think waiting is a childhood thing. For about a dozen years, you’re sort of in hyper-stasis. Sort of constantly moving, but just waiting to be released fully into the world. I suppose there are lucky ones who realize that stage of life is perhaps the least burdened, even though at times it feels like everything is burdened. 

School is balanced by getting to spend days with peers – hoping that at least a few of them you can count as friends but then there is homework. There is expectation of learning. There is the constant measuring of yourself against the people around you mentally, physically, and every other way that a person can measured. 

All of it so you can reach that mystical period of life known as “grown up,” and be “successful.” Only then do you find out that the waiting is over and everything turns into a rush with the seconds, minutes, days, and years blurring by faster than you can keep up.