Life on the Edge

Why am I always "just in time"? No matter where I go: meetings, carpool, classes, or even social occasions, I arrive at the last possible moment. I slide into a chair just as the speaker stands up to talk. I drive into the carpool lot just as my quartz watch ticks to the appointed minute. I step my way carefully past strangers' toes in the dark to my cushy theater seat just as the previews begin playing. What's wrong with being early? Why can't I arrive for every appointment 5 minutes early instead of 5 minutes late?

I think that I am following a great family tradition. My mother was late everywhere. I never realized how common place and widely known this was until a recent conversation with my cousin. When we were kids, her family and mine got together for dinner and cards on an almost weekly basis. We saw each other for Christmas and family reunions. "We always had to tell your mom to come an hour earlier than everyone else. That way we knew that she would be on time." Wow! I never knew that. I guess that left me predisposed to be late.

Over the years I have made concerted efforts to improve my "on time" record. In the past I used to always be 20 minutes late, now it is often only 2. I used to hit the snooze on my alarm clock for 45 minutes, now it is only 10. I used to never, ever get up early for absolutely anything. Now three times a week I swim laps only minutes after rising from bed at 5 AM. (OK. OK. I don't really get up until 5:05 AM.) Even though I have improved, I just cannot seem to defeat this bad habit.

What is it that causes me to be late? What is the great temptation here? I think it is the desire to squeeze just one more thing out of the limited time that I am given. I sleep 10 minutes later because no matter what time I get up, I end up being 2 minutes late. As I am getting ready, I look at the clock to see how I'm doing. If I'm running late, I leave something out. If I'm 5 minutes late, I eat my breakfast in the car instead of at home. Ten minutes late: breakfast in the car, and put makeup on while I'm driving. Fifteen minutes late: breakfast in the car, makeup on while driving, and I skip giving the dogs their medicine. Twenty minutes late: breakfast in car, makeup while driving, no dog medicine, and I don't shave my legs. The problem with this system is that after a few late days, my husband is stuck with sick dogs and an ugly, hungry, hairy wife. That probably explains why he tries to help me.

My poor husband, Marty. He is the type to be early everywhere. If we have to be at church 15 minutes early, he gets up an hour early. If we're going to a new place, he leaves 30 minutes early. Worse yet, he drives to the appointment the night before just so he knows the correct route so he can be on time (early) the next day. How could two such mismatched people ever end up married?

So, by some cruel twist this guy who will gladly sit in the parking lot for 30 minutes before an appointment (just to be sure he is on time) ends up running around the house every morning trying to get his wife off to work on time. I like to have a scrambled egg and toast for breakfast. Marty began to notice that I was running late every morning, so he offered to butter my toast. Then he noticed that I was rushing out the door, so he started carrying my purse and my briefcase to the car. This morning as I was drying my hair (5 minutes late) he got my shoes out of the closet and set them by my clothes. Sometimes he even drives me to the carpool lot so that I can eat my breakfast, apply my makeup and put on my shoes, all while riding in the car.

Maybe I'm just a drama queen. Maybe I secretly enjoy the daily adrenalin rush of trying to get out the door on time. I just know that if I ever ask Marty to buy an RV so that I can shower while he drives me to work, I'll know I've gone too far.