Patience

I have always considered myself a highly patient person, at least where patience is important.  I have no patience with slow loading computer programs or laundry that is "perpetually" stuck on the 1-minute-left-to-cycle screen, but, I have nearly endless patience teaching mathematics to reluctant learners, and I can spend hours upon hours making the perfect chocolate babka.  Then why, pray tell, am I having such a difficult time being a patient writer?

Maybe it is because LitD practically wrote itself in two months and that the following two months were so full of glorious revisions that I hardly had time to notice time was passing.  Maybe it is because springtime has finally come to Massachusetts and all my patience was spent on winter.  But now--now that my manuscript is due to the writers' conference, and now that my revisions will be few and far between (that is, until I next receive feedback)--now, I feel impatient.

I want to keep moving forward.  I want to make LitD as perfect as it can be; except, I want to do it faster.  Oh yes, patience is a virtue.  But patience is now at war with my father's motto--the one that is so ingrained in me that it might as well be my motto:  Do your work. Get it done.  Afterwards, have some fun.  How can patience compete with that, especially when writing is my fun?

My question for you:

How do you cope with impatience?