Crazy on Legs
The problem with me is that I am crazy. And not only AM I crazy but I MAKE myself crazy by being crazy.
To wit:
I am one of those people who is never late.
(Well, let me rephrase that, having just thought about the fact that I once sent my Christmas cards out in February.)
I am one of those people who will never keep you waiting. I always arrive either right on time or, more often than not, EARLY. (Except for that time when I stood Beth up but dudes, it took the threat of losing my SIGHT to keep me from my date with her.)
And the thing is, it causes me great stress to even contemplate being late. Seriously, I start to sweat and growl at people and I do things like only shaving one leg. Because I am really afraid of being late and I might be late if I take the time to shave both legs.
I'm not sure what's up with that. I mean, what's going to happen if I'm a few minutes late? Will the Late Police lock me up and throw away the key? I had a friend once who observed my complete and utter breakdown over the possibility that I might be late and he said, "You know, YOU waste as much time being early as most people waste being LATE."
And I said, "Oh,shutthehellupwhenIwantyourstupidopinionI'llaskforit."
Because I am mature like that. Also, witty.
In addition to the Fear of Lateness (which I'm sure has a scientific name because I am not the only person who has this fear. Just look at how many senior citizens get to the airport six hours early. Just in case. Because airplanes, as we all know, are notorious for leaving EARLY.), I do this other thing that I think is related to said fear.
Whenever I have an appointment, my entire day is structured around it. Take yesterday. (Please.) I had a doctor's appointment at 11:30 for which I needed to leave my house at 11:10. I dropped my daughter Jane off at school at 9:20 and came home, ready to tackle this little home improvement project I have in mind.
Only, I couldn't get started on it. I had, basically, an hour and a half before I needed to leave the house and I just ... stood around with my keys in my hand. Well, okay, not literally, but sort of.
Because I am CRAZY.
I could have left early and done some OTHER errands. I needed to drop some books off to a friend and I needed to go to the post office. But instead? I did nothing. Because I didn't want anything to interfere with my doctor's appointment, which was in TWO FREAKING HOURS. Exercise? Nope. Blogging? Nope. Taking a shower and shaving both legs? Nope.
What the HECK is WRONG with me???
I don't know. Sometimes the worst thing about being crazy is KNOWING I'm crazy and not being able to do anything about it.
(Although, I'm picturing an Intervention where all of my friends grab me and force me to be LATE for something! Someone hides my day-timer so that I miss whole appointments and flights and stuff! I'd be forced to sit and enjoy a second cup of coffee and the world wouldn't end!)
(Seriously. It might have to happen.)
To wit:
I am one of those people who is never late.
(Well, let me rephrase that, having just thought about the fact that I once sent my Christmas cards out in February.)
I am one of those people who will never keep you waiting. I always arrive either right on time or, more often than not, EARLY. (Except for that time when I stood Beth up but dudes, it took the threat of losing my SIGHT to keep me from my date with her.)
And the thing is, it causes me great stress to even contemplate being late. Seriously, I start to sweat and growl at people and I do things like only shaving one leg. Because I am really afraid of being late and I might be late if I take the time to shave both legs.
I'm not sure what's up with that. I mean, what's going to happen if I'm a few minutes late? Will the Late Police lock me up and throw away the key? I had a friend once who observed my complete and utter breakdown over the possibility that I might be late and he said, "You know, YOU waste as much time being early as most people waste being LATE."
And I said, "Oh,shutthehellupwhenIwantyourstupidopinionI'llaskforit."
Because I am mature like that. Also, witty.
In addition to the Fear of Lateness (which I'm sure has a scientific name because I am not the only person who has this fear. Just look at how many senior citizens get to the airport six hours early. Just in case. Because airplanes, as we all know, are notorious for leaving EARLY.), I do this other thing that I think is related to said fear.
Whenever I have an appointment, my entire day is structured around it. Take yesterday. (Please.) I had a doctor's appointment at 11:30 for which I needed to leave my house at 11:10. I dropped my daughter Jane off at school at 9:20 and came home, ready to tackle this little home improvement project I have in mind.
Only, I couldn't get started on it. I had, basically, an hour and a half before I needed to leave the house and I just ... stood around with my keys in my hand. Well, okay, not literally, but sort of.
Because I am CRAZY.
I could have left early and done some OTHER errands. I needed to drop some books off to a friend and I needed to go to the post office. But instead? I did nothing. Because I didn't want anything to interfere with my doctor's appointment, which was in TWO FREAKING HOURS. Exercise? Nope. Blogging? Nope. Taking a shower and shaving both legs? Nope.
What the HECK is WRONG with me???
I don't know. Sometimes the worst thing about being crazy is KNOWING I'm crazy and not being able to do anything about it.
(Although, I'm picturing an Intervention where all of my friends grab me and force me to be LATE for something! Someone hides my day-timer so that I miss whole appointments and flights and stuff! I'd be forced to sit and enjoy a second cup of coffee and the world wouldn't end!)
(Seriously. It might have to happen.)
Comments
What's yer point?
Now, the "fear of being late" coupled with the "fear of distraction, becoming involved and losing track of time because I have ADD" part? That I get.
LOL!
I'm pretty prompt and have been known to be early on occassion but recently I've decided that I am definitely worth the extra 2 minutes to shave my other leg.
Relax my friend.
So I started a self preservation chant: What is the point in being early, you just have to wait for someone else.
It sucks to be me.
They did make a movie like you describe...Chaos Theory. The main character's wife makes him late, and it ruins his entire life.
I get the don't-be-late thing...though my issue is more the opposite: a parlyzing fear of being too early and looking like an idiot. So I'll get there early, and walk around the block 17 times, hoping nobody notices.
Yeah, I'm cool like that.
Want me to bring you a latte?
If you figure out a cure, let me know?
ALLEGROPHOBIA: Fear of being late and getting stuck behind an old lady on the M1 doing 12mph while keeping her left-hand indicator constsantly flashing.
Frankly, I don't think you have a fear of being late, and stress over that, but a fear of waiting, which also causes stress.
Think about it
There's worse things to OCD about....so I consider myself lucky on that one.
It's just the way you are. When people bug you about it, just smile and say, "Yup, but, let's get going."
:)
You are also funny.
Sincerely,
Laughing in Utah