DESCRIBE SOMEONE WHO IS WAITING FOR SOMETHING ANXIOSULY

I’m tapping my right foot, chewing at my nails. My eyes dart back and forth to the clock, with an angry expression, why can’t it tick any faster? The moment is no longer 60 seconds, but much more. I get up and start pacing back and forth, pulling at the long sleeves of my shirt. I start running my hands through my hair, while stealing a peek at the clock at the top right hand corner of the blank white wall. Only 2 minutes have passed. I decided to go sit down again, in those uncomfortable rectangular chairs found in every hospital. How can people spend the night in them? The sounds and beeps of the machines are anything but soothing, constantly reminding you of where you are. It’s cold, and silent, the type of silence that will drive you mad. 1 minute has gone by. You think the clock stopped working since you no longer hear its ticking. But as I jerk my head up and take a look, I realize I’m wrong. It’s working perfectly. Almost as if it’s testing my patience, knowing that I have none. It’s the middle of the night and everyone in the rooms next door is sleeping. I’m the only one awake, pacing back and forth. I can’t imagine that I’ve only been here for an hour, yet it feels as if I woke up here.