When my name is not ‘Patience’

I consider myself to be a patient person.  Queues at the post office?  No probs – I’ll wait my turn happily.  Traffic jams?  Mildly frustrating, but nothing to get worked up about.  Crazy drivers?  As long as safety is not an issue I am happy to overlook moments of inattention.  All in all, I’m patient.  I don’t like being rushed so I make sure, whenever possible, that I leave myself time for a few unexpected hiccups, just so I can stay relaxed.  So what is it about the writing game that transforms me into an impatient-gotta-send-it-RIGHT-now kind of person?