Wait, wait, wait

Moving to Americus was a big step for me. Number one reason? Well, Momma and Daddy weren’t going to be right outside my backdoor and vice versa. Bleckley County is not that far away, and Americus is not as far as Livingston, Ala., was.

But I still wasn’t too sure about coming to Americus and all. I was excited about working for the newspaper and getting to go on new adventures. Change, though, is not something I look forward to always. It was hard to accept after my cancer surgery/hysterectomy that I couldn’t and wouldn’t be the same Becky Boo. It is not easy to accept that next year will be the 10th year anniversary of my 29th birthday.

That’s the way the ball bounces though, life goes on, even when you want it to stop. Someone once told me, you either ride the train or you wait at the train station.

I don’t like waiting. Ask anyone who knows me. I bet all of you don’t like the word “wait” either. You have to “wait” for the clothes dryer to stop before you can leave the house. You have to “wait” for Christmas Eve and Daddy to come into the living room before you can open your presents. You have to wait on God.

Can’t stand the word “wait.” It is like I keep waiting for George Clooney to realize I would be his Mrs. Right. I keep waiting for menopause to pass. I keep waiting for my million dollars to pop down from the sky (or at least a $20 so I can go crazy at the Dollar Tree!). Boy, some of the stories I could tell you that happened during my “wait” for this job and the move here.

Then I got here, and you know what happened? I got a roommate. Her name was Stella G. She was a good roommate, though at first I think she and I were not too sure about each other. Wait it out, I was told; see what happens.

Just when the going got good, Stella G. got going and I have not heard from her since, sure would like to. Guess I will have a long wait on that one. Stella G. by the way is a cat.

While waiting around to hear from Stella G., I found a new roommate. His name is Tullie. Tullie was in pretty bad shape when we met. His hair was all stringy, and he was walking slower than my 95-year-old grandmother, instead of the young buck that he is. Wait, Grandma is not slow, so that is not a good illustration. She runs.

I knew I could just help Tullie. I helped him get cleaned up, fed him and he still was like, not really excited about hanging out with me.

My friend Jessica, said, “Just wait, Becky, in time, he will come around.”

Dr. S. said the same thing.

Well, it has been a few weeks since he has been with me. Lo and behold, he decided he wanted to take a walk with me one afternoon, and then he jumped into my bed.

Wait a minute, I can just see the looks. You should be ashamed! Tullie is a dog, a real dog, four legs and all, a terrier mix.