I hate being late

There is something intensely painful about being late.  Late to work, late coming home, late for a friend, all of it...every time I get a sick feeling the pit of my stomach like I have done some unspeakable ill to someone else.  However, I never real know who the someone else is...I just feel guilty and upset.

Of course, you probably know where this story is going: I am late all the time.  For the past 6 months I have had to back up my alarm so I am not so late to work.  I am never the first one to a meeting and often the last person to show up to a social event.  I can claim it is genetic (like my poor sense of direction) or that it is habitual (since I have been doing it for so many years), but really it is just a continuous problem that I should be able to overcome.

I can claim that my lateness has a distinct feature others may not enjoy: hypocrisy.  Though I am often late to others meetings and gatherings, I really dislike it when others are late on me.  It irks me, bugs me, downright pisses me off when my time is not valued.  I feel disrespected and dismissed, both of which strike me at my moral core.  Don’t waste my time...

...now if I just didn’t do that other people.  I wonder sometimes if they are able to exercise a level of equanimity and patience with my tardiness that I seem unable to summon.  Regardless, I should be more respectful of them and their time.

Now, if someone doesn’t show up at all, without a call or an email,  OMG that is some f-in BS!  Don’t get me started...  :)

(As you can tell, this post was written as I was waiting for someone to show up to our meeting that I have rescheduled 3 times, she is over 30 minutes late, and hasn’t even called....breathe...breathe...breathe.)