Tuesday, January 17, 2017

the science behind being late

  I could sit here, and pretend that I have my life together. This is the internet for goodness sake, I could literally be anyone that I wanted to be in these posts. I could be a size two fit mom, with no eye bags, a Mercedes, a nanny, and a dog that doesn't jump on people when they come to my door. BUUUT... I don't because that's not who I am. Really I'm just a regular person with big thighs, and a few chins. My "luxury" car is a bad ass Nissan (In Mom SUV white) oh, and my eye bags are starting to develop their own personalities. Also, my dog is a really cute jerk.  I give you all the real me, and since we are being real here is the deal. I AM ALWAYS LATE.
  Before having kids I was the most annoyingly punctual human being ever. I showed up early, most of the time. If you watch The Office, I was like Michael Scott in the scene where David Wallace throws a dinner party. -If you don't know what that means please stop reading, go to Netflix, and discover the charming magic that is the US version of The Office.
  Anyways, back to the topic. I was so good at being on time, and now well... I'm not. Two years into having a child and I've become that person who no longer has an excuse for being late other then having a toddler. People expect me to be late, so they've started to tell me an earlier time... I STILL END UP LATE.
  It's like my body is incapable of being on time for anything! Hell have the time my period just pops in a few days late like,
                    "HA! Scared you sasshole. Now lay off the donuts or I'll give you pizza face." 
   I really don't know what it is. I want so badly to be on time. I want people to say
                      "Let's invite S because she will be on time." 
                       "S is going to be late, so let's just leave."
 This week I really did some true pondering and scientific research on why the f*ck I'm always late. I took careful mental notes every day as we were preparing to leave the house. I timed everything, woke up earlier, and even skipped my coffee a few times. I set my clocks forward so I would leave earlier, and nothing helped. I was still a forever late mess, with the hopes of having my shit together. As I reflect on the mornings, I realize that maybe it's not me who is late....
  Every morning it's a struggle to find the things we need to get out the door. Shoes, Keys, tablet, keys again, purse, Did I put on underwear?? You know those normal things that we all worry about... I came to the conclusion that maybe it was the Toddler trying to sabotage me. Maybe HE was moving the keys, misplacing both his shoes- and mine. Maybe he was the cause for the missing mascara, and lucky underwear vanishing. This was like a fiery lightbulb in my brain. Over the next few days I watch more closely.
                         Was he moving my things, and ultimately setting me up for failure?
  Three days went by and guess what. WE WERE STILL LATE EVERY. SINGLE. MORNING. I began to give up.
                         "Will I ever be on time!?" I shouted dramatically while falling to my knees.
  I got really frustrated, and began to talk about feelings with my friends. They laughed- because they knew... I'm just a late person. My life revolves around words
                                                 "I'm going to be late."
There is no rhyme or reason. There is no science behind it, either. I just am going to be late forever, and that's okay.
  So if you're a hot mess express, and can't get anywhere on time it doesn't matter. Just remember the words of the badass Julie Andrews, in the greatest movie of the early/mid 2000s.
Image result for being late gif
                    "A Queen is never late, everyone else is simply early." 
So get out there, and be the badass, late Queen that you are. No one can stop you, not even science.

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