Mark Time, Mark Time, And...

I had a realization recently. And, like most of my epiphanies, it was rooted in a certain amount of...nerdery.

In the course of a conversation with someone who shall remain nameless (let's say that it's because I'm protecting anonymity and not because I'm not quite sure who I was speaking with, in the name of niceness, shall we?), a common lament popped up. The sentiment expressed was this--that said someone was tired of waiting, tired of marking time.

And then came the sudden jolt: waiting and marking time are not the same things to me. They haven't been for more than ten years now. (Ok, it's been eleven, but who's counting?) And if you're wondering how I can be so exact in how long the two have had a distinction for me, I have exactly two words: Marching Band.

Hey now, I told you this is an epiphany rooted in nerdery.

When you participate in a marching band, marking time isn't a matter of waiting. Marking time is, essentially, marching in place as you play those glorious songs to which you'll be marching... and you can't tell me it wasn't a little glorious to play the music from Sesame Street. Okay, so maybe glorious isn't exactly the word I wanted.

Anyway. Back to my point. Marking time allows someone to understand how their marching coordinates with the music. It helps people know the rhythm and pace of things before making them worry about direction, movement, and actual spacing.

In short, it's preparation.

So I've decided while it's absolutely true that I hate waiting, I rather hope that I'm always marking time.