Waiting is excruciating. And I am not talking about simply holding your breath for the ramshackle bus -- although time spent at a bus stop can definitely lead to extreme "excrutiation." But waiting for BIG things -- like word from the doctor if you have an incurable disease, waiting for the sun, or waiting for THE PHONE CALL.

Right now I am on a massive job hunt. I just so happened to have very successful interviews last week. They were one in which you walk away feeling good, feeling like you have an excellent chance of landing the position, feeling that you really-really WANT the job. You glance at your watch and realize "Wow! I’ve been in there talking to them for an ENTIRE HOUR." These are positive signs, much like the opposite of a black crow hovering above you. Now it’s time to wait. Wait for them to get back to me.

The pins and needles hour(s). One of the benefits of having a Gemini head that rambles around at 900 miles an hour is that thoughts are always popping into mind. With that fact in mind, it is no surprise that, while waiting, I am glad to be bombarded with ideas on how to pass the time waiting. Don’t bite your nails, don’t think negative thoughts; don’t jump off the Verrazano Bridge. Remind yourself that you need to work on having patience, anyway, and this is an opportune time to take a lesson (this tactic rarely works). Remind yourself that there is no hurry -- if our whole life happened in an instant and we got everything done we needed to do in this lifetime we would have nothing left to do but die (this tactic does). Do take a walk; do fantasize about positive results (but not obsessively); do write a column about it. Try not to think about "what I shoulda said instead" and don’t dare try to guess the outcome...unless you pretty much know.

Also remember something handy I recently read that said to live in the moment. No moment is unbearable. It’s the speculation of the future or remorse over the past that is unbearable.

At least after a terrible interview, like the one in which I was in the manager’s office all of five minutes, you don’t have to play the waiting game. You know exceedingly well you ain’t gettin’ the job. You can even turn it on the defense and say, heck, I don’t even want it! After this "world’s shortest interview" I was pretty positive the position was not for me. Especially since the manager looked at my resume, saw I worked in the public eye, and spent four and a half minutes of the five asking if a certain boisterous politician is in jail yet.

Speaking of politics, waiting on a vote count has to be a pretty painful wait, as well. I once worked through in election year at a government office. Actually, in that particular case, the waiting was not too bad since we knew who was going to win. It was an established incumbant against an upstart from New Jersey who pretended to live in Brooklyn but drove around with out-of-state license plates. The contender came to one of the schools where we had been campaigning and threw a temper tantrum, saying we were closer than the mandatory 100 feet from the school’s main entrance where voting was taking place. He even had the captain of the 60th precinct come down with a yardstick, as if the police have nothing better to do than measure square inches in front of a local elementary school.

Waiting to get out of class can sometimes lead to brain damage. And waiting to get out of prison has to be an ordeal. And what about that seat there on death row? That’s some crummy waiting chamber. Waiting for the worms must not be pleasant. And I cannot fathom a march to the guillotine as a nice transition period, either. At least it’s waiting with some movement involved. Moving around seems to make the time pass quicker, at least (which is why I will sometimes even board a local train rather than wait for an express if the local arrives first -- at least I’ll be MOVING!). Come to think of it, perhaps you don’t want time to pass quicker when you are on the way to the guillotine, marching to your death.