The Power of Being Late

The power of being late is not normally fully actualized. We all dabble with it and throw out a quick sorry when it happens, but it takes a special person to master the art of being late.

Even though all my a very short list of my friends might be frustrated when I am late, I want them to understand something. Being late is not a power trip, self-sabotage, attention seeking behavior, or disrespect. New research suggests, being late may be hard-wired into my brain. Let’s take a look at a typical brain versus mine.

Here on the left is what most of us would describe as normal. This, on the right, is a habitually late person’s normal. You will see that a large section of the late brain is still in the shower, whereas this quote, unquote, normal brain is already at their coffee date with a friend. This proves, without a doubt, that my brain is to blame for my habitual tardiness. You know I normally prioritize coffee over showers, much to Mister’s disapproval, so this must have been a special occasion to have to shower first. I would have had to walk the dog, check in on Facebook and Netflix, write a blog post, finally check my watch that I bought from somewhere like WatchShopping, then race into the shower after texting my friend that I’m on my way. Don’t you do that?

We can also prove that the late brain, as I will call it, is subconsciously drawn to the adrenaline rush of arriving in the nick of time, or, in fact late. Most people I know say I have more energy that your average woman of my advanced age. I’ll link my hip hop and belly dancing videos to this post so you can see for yourself. Let’s refer back to the brains for confirmation. Adrenaline is a normally occurring phenomenon in the body. The red section is adrenaline. Now I will let you make your own observation about my brain.

See, I can’t help it.

My research suggests that many late people tend to be both optimistic and unrealistic and this affects their perception of time. I honestly believe I can go for a run, shower, pick up the clothes at the dry cleaners, buy groceries, and put them away in an hour. I remember that single shining day 5 years ago when I really did all those things in 60 minutes flat. Don’t mention all the other times that everything took much, much longer because they don’t count. I remember it well. It was sunny and slightly cool. I was wearing a hoop skirt and a ribbon in my hair. I had a whiskey that day. That might be the secret.

Sometimes more creative individuals, like myself, live by my own clock and find it more difficult to be on time. My creative energy is always devising brand new ways to entertain my cousin and the three other people reading this blog (I know there are more of you out there, but unless you comment–make up a name, Dirk Diggler is good–I feel lonely). I, likewise, am always trying to find innovative ways to work candy into my day with full justification (if it has the word peach in it, it is not candy, but fruit). So accept my lateness in exchange for my brilliance and innovation. (Twinkly eye emoji inserted here).

Telling a late person to be on time is like telling a dieter not to eat so much. You have a double whammy with me. It has taken me almost 50 years to get to be this high-energy, positive, brilliant*, and fabulous*. We don’t want you to mess with perfection so just wait. I’ll get there eventually.

*So, next time you are late, just tell the frustrated person waiting for you that you are brilliant and fabulous and give them a link to this blog and all will be well in the world.

Shit! I’m late to pick up the kids. Why didn’t someone tell me the time?