8 minutes

I am sitting behind my desk at work deeply immersed in creating a new unit for my Foundations 20 class. The clock says 4:07. Crap. I'm late. I needed to leave at precisely 4:00 to arrive at Calder's daycare by 4:30.

I slam my textbook shut. If I'm lucky I will have remembered to save my work. I flip my laptop closed and grab my coat. I walk at an Olympic speed walker's pace down the hall. I can hear my grade 3 teacher as I do, "swing those hips, you can walk faster!" Once I reach the doors to the parking lot I start running. Fast. For some reason it seems silly to run inside, but once outside it doesn't matter how silly I look.  This girl can motor pretty fast in 2 inch heels.

I fire up the loser cruiser and put it in reverse. I look in my rearview mirror, but don't do any kind of shoulder check. There isn't time.

Traffic is completely an utterly annoying. I am ready to lose. my. mind. I have a death grip on the steering wheel and barely stop myself from flipping the bird to a totally innocent driver who decided to signal a bit too late for my liking.

I hit every red light. I get wedged behind a semi only to get freed and stuck behind someone making a left hand turn. It's 4:24. I am still 10 minutes from home. I turn off the radio. I can't stand to hear people talk, let alone listen to that stupid "Canadian Girls" song that everyone else seems to like.

I dodge and weave around cars, trucks, and SUVs as I cruise down the highway on the home stretch. I don't speed. Let me re-phrase. I don't speed THAT much. I take a calculated risk that when the speed limit is 110 km/h I can go 118 km/h. I'm late, so I push 120 km/h.

I pull into Calder's daycare at 4:35. I am exhausted and there might even be a bit of steam coming out of my ears.

Lets rewind.

I am sitting behind my desk at work deeply immersed in creating a new unit for my Foundations 20 class. The clock says 3:59.

I close my textbook and put away all of the work spread out on my desk. I gather pencils and pens and save the work open on my computer. I grab my coat and head for the door. As I head down the hall I stop at the couple open classroom doors and wave good-bye to my coworkers and wish them a good evening.

I hop in the van and head out. Traffic is the same it always is. Hit a bunch of red lights and get stuck behind the occasional semi. I crank up the radio and sing along to my new favourite song, "Springsteen" by Eric Church. When "Canadian Girls" comes on I just flip to another station.

I spend my drive thinking about what is left for me to do at work, what I need to do when I get home, and maybe even what I am going to write about that evening.

I pull into Calder's daycare at 4:28. I am happy and relaxed. Excited for my busy evening at home.
• • •

It's amazing to me how 8 minutes can completely change my mind set. 


Once I'm late, I'm late. There is nothing that is going to change that fact. Yet somehow I can't seem to let go of the anger and annoyance at myself. I hate being late. . . but I am FAR from perfect, so it happens. 


Here's to working on forgiving myself immediately for being late. Nothing is gained by all the negative self-talk and anger that comes with it. White knuckles and swearing at the elderly are not good for anyone!


Have a good drive home from work today! I hope you're on time!



Comments

  1. I could've written this post. Oh man, how I completely understand!! I like to think that I can make up the time if I'm very focused and intent... which just ends up backfiring... of course! :)

    Take care!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I completely understand this post. One would think being a stay at home mom makes it easier to time things, but with Jax being so unpredictable, I sometimes am late for things with Jaiden and Emme. I HATE being late, and I totally feel awful when I am. I am positive I judge myself harder than any people I may inconvenience. Most of the time I overcompensate and am early now, but sometimes I am realizing there is nothing you can do about certain situations:(

    ReplyDelete
  3. very cleverly written, my friend!

    ReplyDelete

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