I would like to begin with a sincere apology. I am so, so sorry.
You know your selfish, disorganised, chronically late friend who you secretly detest? Oh, yes, hi there. That would be me.
My issues with lateness seem to be interwoven into my DNA, from always losing a shoe just before heading out the door in Kindergarten, to missing the bus just about every day in high school.
Holly Wainwright, Jacqueline Lunn and I argue about the politics of lateness on the most recent episode of Mamamia Out Loud. Post continues below.
Being late is highly unpleasant. No matter how angry you are at me for keeping you waiting, I can assure you I hate myself more.
In the words of Tim Urban; “I’m late because I’m in denial about how time works” – and not in a cute “Omg I’m just such an original free spirit that I don’t believe in time” way. I BELIEVE in time and I appreciate how important it is, I am just really, really bad at it.
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Realizing this article is dated, but my daughter is notoriously late, and there are times when she won't call or text to let us know she can't make it. I use to get frustrated, but now I just give her a 15 minute rule (which applies to everyone in my life). If you can't call or text that you'll be late in the 15 minute time-spam leading up to the event, you won't be included. If you don't show up at all or even make an attempt to get in touch with us to let us know, you won't be asked again.
As someone who has been late most of my life, I’ve kearned that almost everything takes 15 or 30 minutes longer than you think. And build in a buffer just in case. I even put events in my calendar as if they start 15 minutes sooner than they do.
And now, I have a friend who runs later than anyone I’ve ever known. Often 60-90 minutes late. So frustrating. So now I have her provide her own transportation. Strangely enough, she is timelier then when I used to pick her up.