Do you have that friend who is late to everything? I mean, late so that you plan to arrive somewhere 5 minutes late just so you don’t have to sit at a restaurant table all alone feeling self-conscious and eating too many breadsticks?
Most of us do. But do you also have that other friend who is late to everything, but always insists that they’re an early person?
I am an actual early person. I find it extremely uncomfortable and heart-rate increasing to be driving somewhere and see that clock tick over to the time I was already supposed to be there, even if I KNOW for a fact that the event or meeting or playdate won’t start until later because everyone else coming is a late person. I have to be there. Preferable 10 minute early.
So when I started considering how a person can insist EVERY TIME they are late that they’re really an early person and can’t imagine why they’re late that time, it hit me that it’s not that she’s blind.
No, really. It’s just that she has a “self-story” of earliness despite the fact that she’s a late person.
We all have these “self-stories”, right? I was just thinking about a “close female relative” and how she is terminally efficient, not for efficiency’s sake, but because for her, waiting around is boring and boring is the cardinal sin. Seriously, like the worst thing in the world isn’t to hit her or make her cry, or steal her money, it’s to be boring.
If she’s at my house and the girls suddenly become preoccupied with solitary pursuits, all of a sudden there are bills to pay and errands to run. However, if my youngest should suddenly want to play Monopoly, those bills are no longer pressing.
My “close female relative’s” “self story” is that she is efficient. Strangely enough, it’s probably my story as well.
As I struggle this year with getting girl2 ready for first grade each morning, I’ve come to realize that like ninety nine percent of my frustration comes from the fact that I can’t stand it when it takes girl2 ten minutes to put on a sock. And why? We’ve never been late since school started, so it’s not that her ten minutes impacts me or girl1. It’s that I’m bored!
Wouldn’t it be great if we could keep ourselves from bashing our heads against our “self stories” and deal with ourselves as we really are?
Well, that’s probably enough on this subject. I think I have to go pay a bill or something….