5 Reasons Why I'm Running Late
It's probably not what you think.
I don’t often run late, but when I do, it’s for some completely nonsensical reason.
Reason 1: I dropped the onions.
Recently I was headed down the mountain to spend the night at a friend’s house. I threw my bag over my shoulder and texted that I was on my way.
Which, in hindsight, was a tad optimistic.
As I headed out the door, I snatched up the bag of onions I’d promised to bring her. But when I was nearly to the car, the thin grocery store produce bag ripped, scattering onions.
Please understand that I have one of the worst driveways known to man. Onions bounced in all directions, rolling down steep curves toward the woods. I chased them, determined not to lose a single onion.
Gathering the onions in my arms, I marched back up to the car and dumped them, now bagless, into the passenger’s seat.
That’s when I heard the angry buzzing. While I’d been chasing down onions, a bee had flown into my car. Because of course.
Now, some people would have slid into the car, rolled down the windows, and started driving, hoping to blast the bee out.
I went in a different direction.
Only after shooing the bee from my car did I finally peel out of the driveway, now sweaty and breathless, running who-knows-how-many minutes late, trundling down the mountain with a car full of loose onions.
As one does.
Reason 2: I left the house in slippers.
I work from home, like to be cozy, and don’t always remember to change into my going-out shoes.
In truth, it doesn’t always matter. I’ve done many a grocery pickup and visited the local library wearing my house shoes. As far as I’ve been able to tell, no one has noticed or cared.
It’s when I’m meeting a friend for a run or hike that problems arise.
More than once, I’ve had to send a text saying I’m running about ten minutes late because I’d gotten partway down the mountain before I realized I was still wearing slippers, so now I had to circle back.
Sometimes I explain why—sometimes not.
Sometimes it’s better just to let people assume you lost track of time.
Reason 3: I’m doing the ADHD shuffle.
It’s time to go meet my friends for dinner. Fortunately, I’m leaving on time. I’ll likely even arrive early—maybe answer some emails while I wait.
Then I get out to the car and realize I don’t have my phone. I skip back to my room to get it. In the course of getting it off the charger and answering a quick emergency text, I set down my bag.
Only I don’t realize this until I’m back out at the car. With a sigh, I head back inside.
Bag now in hand, I head back toward the front door and realize I don’t have my keys. Where are they? I must have had them at some point because back when I’d gone looking for my phone, I’d been able to let myself into the house.
So what did I do with them?
Are they in my pockets? No.
In my bag? I stick my hand in and pat around but don’t feel them. I dump my bag out on the countertop, pawing through my possessions. No keys.
I must have set them down somewhere. But where?
I retrace my steps through the house. There are only so many places a set of keys can be. I will find them eventually. I just need to think this through.
Maybe I left them in the car ignition. I’ve done that before. I trot out to the car and check, but no—no keys in the ignition.
I’m now definitely running late. I need to text my friends and let them know.
I pat my back pocket. Where’s my phone? Oh yes, in on the counter next to my upended bag.
I trudge back toward the house, and when I reach to open the front door, find my keys dangling from the exterior lock.
Muttering to myself, I hurry back to the kitchen, scooping everything back into my bag, keeping my keys, wallet, and phone in clutched in one hand just in case, physically keeping my eye on them as I walk out the front door.
I’m running a few minutes late, I text my friends, offering absolutely no explanation.
Reason 4: I don’t know what day it is.
I’ve never been great with time, but in former phases of life, the days of the week were easier to keep track of. When I was a classroom teacher, for instance, I had to write the date on the board every morning, a practice which kept me grounded along the space-time continuum.
Now that I live and work mostly-alone in a cabin in the woods, there’s little in my life that differentiates one day from the next.
So when I’m late for an appointment, it could very well be because I’m chasing loose onions down the driveway, am shooing a bee from the car, left the house wearing slippers, or got lost in the ADHD shuffle.
Or it could just be that it’s Thursday but I think today’s Tuesday.
You just never know.
Reason 5: My car fell apart. (Again.)
In this season, my car isn’t so much breaking down as it is breaking apart.
The engine’s running fine, but it’s also old enough that non-engine parts have started giving up the ghost.
For a while last year, the driver’s door was missing the exterior handle. It took me months to get it replaced, and in the meantime, I either had to crawl into the car from the opposite side or lean in far enough to pop the driver’s side open so that I could walk around and get in.
What a special time.
This past weekend, I slid into the driver’s seat, folded my hand around the interior plastic handle to pull the door closed, and tugged.
The handle came away in my hand.
Here we go again.
I popped the handle back in, slammed the flat of my hand against it to lock it into place, and tried closing the door again. This time, the entire plastic interior door structure pulled away from the frame.
I sat there, holding up the innards of my car door, wondering what in the world I was supposed to do next.
The only thing I knew for sure was that I was running late for a ridiculous reason.
Again.
All this to say that if we’re ever meeting up and I’m running late, please don’t take it personally.
Your time is valuable, and I’m honestly trying to get there.
I’m likely just dealing with a few loose onions.
Before you go, some news.
If you’ve been meaning to try out my books, there’s never been a better time.
Pelican Book Group put my Rachel Cooper trilogy on sale this month. Collapsible, Flexible, and Unbreakable are all $1.99 for Kindle and e-readers through July 31!
With those sorts of deals, you might as well throw in the spinoff Unseasonable while you’re at it and snatch up the whole series for under $10.