I know. You’re cringing. Especially if you’ve ever waited for me at a meeting, a movie, a subway/El station, at a coffee place, at a brunch spot, or any of the numerous places to which I fail to make the designated meeting time.
I’m never on time.
My lateness isn’t egregious, but it’s not great. It ranges from 7-15 minutes, on average, and it is persistent. It bothers the hell out of my mom, my boyfriend, my business school groups, and my friends who throw dinner parties.
But I should qualify.
My friend Janvi pointed out that I do care about being on time to some things, like interviews, the theatre, and weddings. Mostly these are things to which it would be extremely disruptive to show up late. (The only exception to this is class, where I am a frequent latecomer.)
Here’s the weird thing.
I actually do think I care quite a bit about being on time. I hate rushing. Hate hate hate it. But my argument is that if I actually cared, I would plan better, start getting ready sooner, and leave earlier. Right?
I don’t know where this comes from. My family members are a bunch of fairly prompt folks, and so are my friends. So what’s wrong with me? I don’t know. I think I just don’t care that much. Or maybe being late means I never have to wait for anyone. (Which I realize is extremely hypocritical.)
Does anyone else have this problem?