guilty

Sometimes I have to be careful to draw a clear line between patience and inertia. Not to suggest that the two are easily conflated, but at times I’m guilty of doing just that. Many times I wait and wait and wait, to claim an act of patience, when in fact it’s disguised indolence: my refusal to act or to realise the pointlessness of waiting, whether it is of people to change, to finally get that paper published or simply to recognize that I will not receive an answer.