Reasons Why I’m Late

This goes out to all my punctual friends and family….

First, I’m sorry. I know the concept of time is important to you, but it’s just not to me. I don’t get it. Are you competing for an award? Is this like when you were in grade school and received a certificate for never missing a day of school? Because that sounds about as much fun as being on time anywhere for anything. Have you heard of the Internet or Memes?

Reasons I’m always late:

Instagram.

Waking up is hard.

I don’t want to go wherever it is I have to go.

The baby hairs on the right side of my head that refuse to cooperate.

Am I getting enough Magnesium? Better Google it right the hell now and find out.

My brain. More specifically, ideas of new things to try, create, cook or research. Pinterest is gasoline to this fire.

Cleaning up things around the house that are minor and can definitely wait until later, but how great will it be to come home later and it’s already done? Pretty damn great.

My dogs giving me a look that says, “Leaving our sight for more than 2 minutes will make us feel abandoned and unloved. Do you want that on your conscience? Do you!?”

My vanity mirror shouting at me about the 3 eyebrow hairs I missed while plucking.

Where is that shirt I haven’t worn in 8 months, but would be just perfect for today? I should bypass the other lovely 46 shirt options I have and look for it even though I’m supposed to be there already because What Would Jesus Do? I’ll tell you what He’d do. He would tell the parable of the shepherd leaving 99 sheep behind to go searching for the one lost sheep. That shirt is no less important than the others. What book of the Bible is that story from? Better look it up right now because I will need this is information never. Ah, found the shirt. Nope. Now I know why I haven’t worn it 8 months. I’m going to hang it back up though because what if I feel differently about it in another 8 months?

Is that another freckle? Maybe I’m not protecting my skin from the sun enough. What’s the SPF on my moisturizer? That’s not high enough. Must find a better one on Amazon right this minute because this is a health concern that can’t wait. Oh look, I forgot about the bathroom rugs I saved in my cart for later. Do we really need to replace them yet? Maybe I should wash them again and see how they look after that. Gotta put them in the washer immediately because what if the washer goes missing or worse, gets stolen? How safe are we really? Maybe I should look into those cameras you can set up on your porch. I bet Amazon has some. Hopefully on Prime. I’ll check it out.

Facebook notification. Oh, it’s that guy from high school’s birthday. I should say happy birthday because he said happy birthday to me on my birthday. Ugh, if I do that then everyone we’re mutual friends with will expect a happy birthday wish and I’m not doing that. They’ll personalize it, think I don’t like them (I don’t) and it will become a thing. Better keep everyone’s expectations low, I don’t want trouble. No birthday wish for him. Guess I can scroll since I’m already on. Wait. An add for a Magnesium supplement? I didn’t even say that out loud. What the… The government can hear my thoughts? Shit. They obviously know I’m habitually late and will rarely have an alibi so they’re going to pin a murder on me to strong arm me into becoming an informant and putting my life on the line. I think I saw a commercial for a new show about that on Amazon Prime. I’ll check it out. Hmm, did I ever order the new moisturizer?

ADD, obviously.

Crazy Train

“Omg, I just saw your message. I was running from Zombies through an obstacle course at the time. Sorry!”

That’s the message I sent my mother on Monday morning after realizing I didn’t read her message from Saturday night.

I’m 36.

So believe me when I tell you that I judge myself pretty hard sometimes. Then, I realize that I’m not so bad.

Fun? Yes.

Ridiculous? Absolutely.

Responsible? Most of the time.

And that’s good enough, dammit.


My boss handed me a project today and all I could think was, “Ugh. I don’t have time for this.”

I totally have time. I’m among the time havers today, I just don’t wanna.

I’m super busy trying to remember all of my boyfriend’s pet peeves that he mentioned over the weekend so I can maintain a list, obviously.

Why would I keep an account of his pet peeves?

Glad you asked. I’m keeping it on the off chance that we someday get married so I can list all of them off during our vows, thus solidifying his complete understanding of how deep my love is because I have taken the time to acknowledge and notate every little thing that irks him. Duh.

I also can’t be bothered today because I’m still pondering why the little old lady left the stall door open yesterday in the bathroom while peeing. Was it an accident and when she noticed, she was already much too cozy to get up and lock it? Did she not notice until she was mid-stream so it was too late? Was it intentional and she just doesn’t give a shit anymore (hopefully not yesterday at least)?  I hope the latter was the case, but the not knowing will haunt me until at least 3pm at which point my mind will move on something equally as unimportant..

Like the fact that I have to break it to my favorite Ginger pal that I disagree about the best song on the Robert Plant/Alison Krauss album, but I hope we’ll still be Beer Friends Forever.

That’s it folks, the ADD train has left the station with only me on board. I think. I’m not even sure what train this is.