I hate waiting in lines.
Regardless of how well one has mastered concealing it, everybody has an instinctive negative reaction to waiting.
It feels unfair.
In some situations, we let it slide like waiting on a loved one. We can never pressure them to “move it along” because we care about their feelings.
With those who we don’t share that bond, we are much more impatient. Like the irritation we feel when a conversation with a neighbor you ran into after arriving home from a long day at work has gone on a little too long.
It feels like our time is being stolen from us.
Because, at the end of the day, it boils down to control.
Who is in control of your time? Is it you? Your family? Your boss? The plumber who has canceled your appointment twice already, ruining your plans for the rest of the day?
Every time we feel that our time is being forced out of our control, we feel robbed. Because when all is said and done, our time and our body are the only material things that we have in this world.
So, why are we so nonchalant about doomscrolling for hours on end even though somewhere in the back of our minds we know that we are being robbed?
Sure, the time is in “your” control, technically, but which part of you?
Is it the part that wants to better yourself and make tomorrow brighter than it is today or the other you that has resigned itself to the chaos and entropy of the universe, accepting any fate it has in store?
So, the next time you open Twitter for the 50th time, ask yourself, are “you” really in control?