Tick-Tock

I like to be on time to things. Really, I do. Sadly that desire doesn’t always translate into reality.

I’ve spent a little time analyzing all the possible reasons this seems to be so and have come up with a few possibilities (disclaimer: any and all of these reasons could be true in my case).

1. I have too much going on (or, more likely, I plan too much because I don’t like to say no.).
2. I’m OCD (thus, I get stuck doing something, somewhere, anywhere).
3. I’m lazy (I’m 100% sure this is not my case because I think I have the opposite problem and can’t slow down).
4. My clocks / watches are slow (I wish).
5. My spiritual teacher, Eliyahu Jian, once told me being late is a sign of disrespect towards another person’s time. I have to agree with him. Not that I intentionally try to be disrespectful, but I think it is more that I might not be thinking about the other person enough.
6. Starting location: if coming directly from my home I’m late (Funny thing though, I am pretty much guaranteed to be on time if coming from anywhere other than my home). Something about leaving this particular location is hard. There is always something else I need to do…a sweater to pick up, a dog or fish or frog to feed, an email or BBM to send, on and on.

Although there is one exception to #6, and even that only occurs under a very specific circumstance. Five days a week, barring any school holidays, my girls and I are required to leave (rather burst) out of the house at 7:15 a.m. to catch my daughter’s school bus (I just got where that term, “catch the bus” comes from. I don’t like how much it resonates with me). This particular bus doesn’t wait for anyone, and the only reason we leave on time is because we have no choice. If we leave more than 1 minute late Taylor (my oldest daughter) will miss her bus, which is a huge problem and one none of us want to deal with. The thought of chasing a bus down Beverly Blvd isn’t a pleasant one.

Since getting out the door on time is of paramount importance I discovered a new and unexpected consequence to this whole pressure-cooker experience: it is actually possible to leave my home on time. And I can do it, if absolutely necessary although highly undesirably, without my morning dose of coffee. The fear of missing the bus puts that extra pep to my step and proves miracles do happen. I won’t ever again underestimate the power of a big yellow bus.