End-Gaming

I was end-gaming. Any time anyone was saying anything to me I’d butt in impatiently, ‘Just get on with it,’ I’d say, ‘just skip ahead to the end of whatever you are saying would you, I really can’t be bothered with all that in-between stuff.’ I hated all the in-between stuff! It bugged the hell right out of me. Whenever anyone around me was doing anything I’d grow instantly irritable with them. ‘Just hurry up and finish the damn thing you are doing would you?’ I’d growl. ‘Quit endlessly farting around for God’s sake,’ I’d fume. I couldn’t stand farting around – it drove me pure mental. ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes get to the bloody point would you?’ I’d scream if anyone tried to tell me anything. I’d be hopping up and down, red in the face, drumming my fingers on the table, or the counter, or the bonnet of the car, or whatever happened to be handy at the time. I’d be the same with myself – if I was doing something I’ll grow irritable in no time at all and make cross remarks to myself. ‘For God’s sake just get the job done will you!’ I’d snap. ‘Just what the hell are you waiting for?’ Needless to say I didn’t have any friends. I was too impatient to have any friends. I was too impatient for life itself, for that matter! When morning broke and the roosters started crowing and the little birds started singing in the trees and hedges I’d turn out of bed in foul form and start complaining immediately, as was my wont. ‘Oh for fuck’s sake could you hurry up already’, I’d cry out in exasperation. ‘Why can’t you just bloody hurry up and get it on with? What’s the point in hanging about?’ I could hardly wait for the day to be over. I’d be wishing it away with every minute that passed. I’d be trying to hurry it along. ‘Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,’ I’d chant angrily, jumping up and down, ‘let’s get the bloody thing over with can’t we?’ This tactic of mine didn’t work particularly well, needless to say. If anything it seemed to have quite the opposite effect – the day dragged its heels, just to spite me, just to annoy me. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s when the day drags its heels! ‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ I’d shout in sheer exasperation, ‘what are we fucking waiting for now?’ I suppose you could call me a bit of a cantankerous old bastard. Sometimes I break down completely and start screaming in anguish, at nothing in particular, ‘Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, hurry up…’ That’s when the neighbours generally end up calling the police on me. A couple of Bobbies will then turn up to give me a verbal warning. ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ I’d snap before they could get a chance to say anything, purple in the face with frustration and runaway high blood pressure, ‘just fucking get on with it would you!’

 

 

 

 

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