It seems the only time it's cute for someone to be running around saying, "I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date," is when you're a fictional little white rabbit. Pat and I had very little going on this weekend and were able to be completely lazy both Saturday and Sunday. It was great. Except for the fact that the only two obligations we did have, I made us late to both. Pat does not find it cute or endearing and I don't blame him.
On Saturday night we had Pat's uncle's retirement party and I was providing the music. I wanted to get there about 15 minutes before it actually started so I could have the music going before people arrived. 15 minutes early turned in to 20 minutes late, all because I waited too long to get ready. I felt horrible.
On Sunday afternoon, we had a gymnastics meet for Pat's cousin Lia. We wanted to make sure we got there right on time so we didn't miss any of her events. We ended up getting there 15 minutes late (because I was late getting ready) and missed Lia on the balance beam - her best event - by exactly one minute. Again, I felt horrible.
This weekend was a huge wake up call for me. Why it took me until I was 28 1/2 to come to the realization, I have no idea. But the reality is, I'm a habitually late person (which I already knew) and I absolutely have to fix it (my new realization). I'm finally starting to understand how my lateness affects other people. Usually I am late because I am getting ready and I don't start the whole getting ready process early enough.
When I realized we had missed Lia's best event or that the party was full of people by the time we got there, I thought to myself, I would much rather be here with no makeup on or with 80s hair then to be late. And that's when the light bulb when off; neither of these events were about me or how I looked and I made them about me by being late. Ouch. That one stings.
I have been a habitually late person since birth. Literally. I was born a week past my due date and the people in my life have been waiting on me ever since. I have memories as early as three years old and throwing a fit about an outfit my mom picked out for me to wear to a party so I made her change my outfit and thus made us late (this is also my first memory of how sensitive I am and my first recollection of hurting someone's feelings - see, I do have some endearing qualities).
I remember in middle school I missed the bus for a choir contest so my dad had to drive me over an hour to where the contest was. Also in middle school, I missed the bus for a church trip and my mom literally chased the bus down the highway and had it pull over and then forced me to get on it. Just thinking about it now and how embarrassing it was seems like it should have been all the motivation I needed to change my ways. But it wasn't.
I could go on and on. My college roommates can tell you stories about how I made them late for class waiting for me and how I was pretty much late for every class I ever took in college. Pat can tell you stories about how I have made us late for pretty much every event we've ever gone to in the 6+ years we've been together.
My dad has always said that if I really felt bad about being late, I wouldn't be late anymore. I used to always disagree with him but today, I'm starting to think he's right (don't tell him I said that). I always feel bad when I'm late, but apparently I haven't felt bad enough to change my habits. Until today. When we missed Lia's best event at her only home gymnastics meet of the year.
The first step to recovery is acknowledging that you have a problem. My name is Emily and I am habitually late. There, that feels much better. Next step, explore ways to overcome my lateness and then make a conscious effort to fix it.
On that note, I am now late for bed. This is not a good start...
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