Evil Bus is currently about a 20 min walk up the road having a custom stainless exhaust fabricated and fitted... which is nice. Now, I am sitting here waiting on the phonecall to tell me either A: they've hit a snag, or B: come and get it!
I know this phonecall will probably be at least a good few hours away, but still I sit here, N95 in my pocket... occasionally sliding it open to see if I missed any calls, even though I know it will vibrate and serenade me with Pendulum if anyone does call.
I thought I'd grown out of this a long time ago, I thought I'd mellowed into someone altogether more cool, calm, and collected. But it would appear that under certain circumstances, patience and me still have some incompatibilities