I know what they think of me, those who know me best and those who think they know me well. What some see as my strengths others see as my faults and vice verse, though everyone thinks I’m time deficient and directionally challenged. Those are clear faults, and if they are viewed as anything else then they are cute quirks at best.
I joke and laugh it off as best I can, but it does bother me. I struggle to make it places at designated times. I mix up directions all the time, especially if given too many landmarks and mileage counts. I quit trying to explain my daily ordeals because they just sound like stories and lies to people who only see my tardiness. I misjudge time on a regular basis, especially in reference to distance.
Once for Christmas gift exchange I was given a cute little On-Time Fairy pin…by my boss.
My best friend once told me laughingly that my sense of direction is so bad that I couldn’t find my way out of a wet paper bag.
I laugh it off, or try, but it hurts. It hurts to know that people I care about think of me as unreliable. Oh, I know they’d try to encourage me by pointing out that it’s only the arriving on time thing, and that otherwise I’m completely dependable. But come on, I know I’m not their first choice because of my “cute quirk.”
Sadly, I have earned it. Not only was I given the worst sense of time and distance, I was also cursed from birth with obstacles. It’s like Fate thought it would be extra great if I had things get in the way or misdirect me. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be learning strength in how to overcome these difficulties, or just learning patience and a great deal of humility.
Once I drove two hours in the wrong direction because the sign marking the detour was missing. (My heart sinks and I feel ill every time I see a detour sign.)
I have been held up by more accidents than I can tell you. Fortunately, I haven’t been in them, nor have they happened right in front of me (except for that one time). No I come along right at that point where they haven’t figured out how to redirect traffic or their redirect means I have to wait for five minutes.
And if my being on time is in any way linked to someone else being on time just hang it up. That will be the one time they are fraught with difficulty to make it. It’s crazy, but still I’m the one who gets the tardy.
I’m 34 years old. If I knew how to change it, I would have done it by now. I hate being notoriously late. When I put my best effort to make something important I show up super early, and don’t earn any real points for that either. Now, however, I’m also battling my issue with a husband and two kids to coordinate with.
We are all time deficient, but it’s my fault.
*Photo: HSBC bank and the Joseph Chamberlain Memorial Clock – Jewellery Quarter, Birmingham by ell brown, obtained through Flickr.