We've all heard some variation of the phrase, "If your early, you're on time; if you're on time, you're late." My choir director used to say, "Five minutes early is on time, on time is late." Then, there's the "Early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable" variety. But no matter how you say it, the message is clear: show up early.
Punctuality is important to me. I hate being late, which makes me a hypocrite as I always seem to be - late, that is, not hypocritical. No matter what precautions I take to avoid being late, I find the odds of getting somewhere on time decrease as the likelihood of arriving behind schedule skyrockets.
Previously unwilling to accept my label as Chronically Late, I tried every tip and trick in the book. I've done the whole wake-up-fifteen-minutes-
Distractions and delays seem to find me no matter what I do. For example, I had plans with friends a few weeks ago. I was instructed to arrive at noon and told, "Don't be late!" (She knew I needed reminded.) That Saturday, my internal alarm clock woke me up early with hours to spare. I planned to leave at 11:15, which would give me about 45 minutes to get there even though it was only 20 minutes away. I got off to a slightly late start because I had to transfer my coffee into a travel mug. Okay, no biggie - I still had 40 minutes. I put my destination address into the GPS and was on my way. Upon exiting my apartment complex, I realized I had forgotten ponytail holders and had to turn around to retrieve them since they were vital to the day's activities. After that, I was a little later, but my ETA was still set well before noon. As I navigated myself onto the highway, I noticed the annoying light on my dashboard telling me I was running low on gas. Not just low, but dangerously low. Like, panic-inducing, on-the-red-line low. I knew I had to fill up, so I exited the highway to the gas station I knew was right off the exit. Except that I realized I had gotten off one exit early and there were no gas stations in sight. My GPS recalculated my route and I began to panic. How far would it take me until I saw a gas station!? WHY AM I SO GEOGRAPHICALLY CHALLENGED? I continued to drive, following my GPS's guidance that would lead me back on the right highway. I overestimated my distance to the entrance ramp and accidently got on another wrong highway. (Only I posess the ability to misnavigate while using a GPS.) I was a wreck, thinking a) I was going to run out of gas, and b) I was going to be late! I was terrified. Finally, my brain kicked into survival mode and I punched in fuel as a point of interest on the GPS. It wasn't long before I arrived at a gas station. What a relief! I put in my credit card and selected my fuel, then squeezed the handle on the pump. Nothing happened. Puzzled, I reselected my fuel and tried again.
Nothing.
I was about to throw down. I furiously cancelled the transaction and started over. Swipe credit card, check. Select credit option, check. Select fuel, check. Flip handle...oh, crap. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THAT'S what was holding me up? I flipped the stupid handle and began fueling. I didn't fill up all the way - ten bucks and I was outta there!
I finally entered my friend's neighborhood, which, inconveniently, is made up of narrow and winding streets. I crawled through them at a snail's pace, praying no one else would end up behind me and gesture angrily as a result of my slowness. I finally arrived a hot, sweaty mess, just two minutes late. I got out of the car, ready to offer excuses and apologies. But once I found out we were waiting on two others, who were also running late, I really didn't think it necessary.
Until I learn to be on time (read: be early), I guess I'll just have to accept a life of screaming, "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"
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