Sorry About The Wait

My work ethic is weird.

I’m quite a naturally lazy person. I need a deadline and social pressure in order to finish things. I can sometimes start them easily (not always), but similarly some trivial jobs can sit on my to do list forever before I get around to them.

There’s a strange technique that one can have around things that must be done. It’s a sort of self-defence mechanism of just protecting yourself from the feeling that it must be done and being comfortable in watching it fail.

Much is the same around my much needed change in eating patterns, which has enabled my body chemistry and health to go in quite the wrong direction over the course of the year, and which I’m now trying to put right… not quite sure how well that’s going to be honest.

Health-wise, I reported a minor skin injury to the medics, who are referring me for treatment. This is a bit of minor surgery, which may be necessary, or maybe the condition will self-limit and it won’t prove necessary. Ideally we’d just get it sorted. Why wait?

Unfortunately, it’s been most of a week already and even the referral appointment letter hasn’t come. Never mind how long the waiting time would be on an already overstretched NHS. I could go privately. Maybe £250 in a dodgy private practice, up to £850 in a reputable one… but why should I spend so much money when we have a health service that we all contribute to? And what a dilemma – weighing up discomfort against a budget!

I don’t like waiting. I don’t like watching the clock go by, unable to proceed with a particular thing.

Professionally, it appears that my life is all about waiting. It’s a stark lesson to me regarding those whom I’ve kept waiting over my professional life too. I’ve occasionally had a period of inertia where I couldn’t quite get to the things that needed my input… but more often I’ve just been too busy… yet the day ticks on by whether I’ve provided the request input or not. It’s not fun being the person who has nothing to do, or who can’t complete their work, or move onto the next bit of it, until the answer comes in.

It’s torture.

I remember when I’d auditioned for Shrek The Musical (spoilers – didn’t get it) that the period of waiting was the worst part. The Waiting, The Waiting… the fucking waiting.

Yet… here I am. Guess what I’m doing.

However, as is evidenced by the tiktok timelapse at the top of this page, carefully edited to remove most frames of pure butt crack exposure, I can get on with it and get shit done. I like to blast through things and make a difference.

I’ll leave this post with a fond memory of my Grandmother from her sick bed, in the last few days of her life.

I said: “You know what, Grandma, it’s been a busy year. Since last December, I’ve got married, bought and house and we’ve got a baby on the way.” She said “It just shows what you can achieve when you pull your finger out.”

Nuff said.

About ashleyfrieze

Blogger, stand-up comedian, musician, writer and IT nerd. Technical Editor at, Senior Editor at
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