Better late than never

I'm seldom late.  And I guess I should also say that I'm seldom early, which only means that I'm almost always on time.  By on time, I mean EXACTLY on time.  I fill every minute before my departure doing "something". This means I often arrive with an unbuttoned shirt under an untucked sweater, an unclasped charm bracelet stashed in a pocket, unplaced toes in toe socks (terribly uncomfortable), untied boots or unbuckled sandals and sometimes even unglossed lips (which seldom happens due to my obsession with what I refer to as "lipstuff", a term I started using when I thought lipstick sounded too grown-up, lipgloss sounded too Seventeen Magazine, and chapstick really wasn't the truth because it was obvious, albeit embarrassing, that I'd moved on to more girlie products.  So, I settled on the term "lipstuff", which, by the way, has definitely outlasted all Long Stay Lipsticks.)

And one more thing about my lipstuff.  Before running 50 feet to the corner mailbox the other day, I thought I'd reapply because you never know who you might bump into and you don't want to get caught with bare lips.   Really!  I never had a mom that insisted I "put a little lipstick on" before heading out the door, so I don't know why it's become such a habit.  But I reapplied, ran to the mailbox and was happy to smile a pink smile (it wasn't shiny because I've run out of the glossy part, so I suppose it almost looked like grown-up lipstick) when I unexpectedly ran into a friend in his shiny blue car at the corner.

But I was talking about being late, right?

An hour before my lunch date I texted my friend to say that I'd be arriving at 12:29 with hopes that he could skeedaddle (I actually texted that) at 12:30.  He'd sent a message several days ago when we were making the date that 12:30 was a good time, but that I should meet him at his store "a bit before then."  Why should I arrive "a bit before then" if we'd actually scheduled lunch for 12:30?  Was it necessary that I stood there waiting while he used his last few minutes (which could have also been MY last few minutes) to organize his employees and get his jacket?  It seemed odd, so I sent the text to clarify that I'd be there at 12:29. And he said okay.

When I arrived (at 12:29) I didn't see him.  When the employees asked if I needed help I told them I was waiting for the manager. When 12:34 rolled around and I still didn't see him, I started getting restless. I admit it's a bit ridiculous to get restless after only 4 minutes, but restless is so much better than mad, isn't it?  Imagine if I'd arrived "a bit before" 12:30? I'd have already been waiting for 8 minutes, and then I would've been REALLY restless, but hopefully still not mad. I've been practicing this "not getting mad when people are late" for awhile and I think it's working.  I've started carrying a language dictionary everywhere I go and if I find myself with a free minute or two, I learn a new word or two.

There's no need for every detail.  I'd sent him a bit testy text asking where he was. I'd decided to leave, told the staff (whom I'm sure saw my agitation, but I really wasn't mad!) to tell him I'd be at the restaurant, stepped outside, and suddenly realized that today was Thursday and we were scheduled to meet on Friday.
My only question is this:  Wouldn't you wonder why you were getting a text with a detail as specific as 12:29 a day in advance?  Shouldn't that have triggered a text back saying,"Lunch is on Friday, right?"
Isn't the correct answer:  Yes, you would wonder about a text with a specific detail a day in advance?  Unless of course it's from Tenley, who is already worried about how she'll spend her spare 4 minutes the following day.

It was all my fault.  He called. I apologized for the testy text.  He asked if we were still on for Friday at 12:30 and I said that we were, but that I'd have to wait outside because I'd be too embarrassed to see his employees after I'd been so sure that it was all his fault.  I knew the right thing to have done would have been to have gone back inside to admit that I'd made a mistake, but I felt ashamed for getting agitated.  So, I pedaled off.  A few blocks later I couldn't take the guilt. I turned around and went back to tell them that it was MY fault and I'd see them again the next day at 12:29.

I wish I could be more like Anne Shirley of Anne of Green Gables by Maud Montgomery.  She says, 
...And I promise I'll never do it again. 
That's the one thing about me. 
I never do the same wrong thing twice.

I wish I could say that.  But I'm sure I'll still get a little agitated the next time someone is late and I'm sure I'll get really agitated the next time I'm a day early.

Anne Shirley's words are much better words to live by than the ones I found in my Italian dictionary while I was waiting for someone that was late.

Meglio tardi che mai.  (Better late than never.)

I suppose sometimes this phrase has its place.  For instance, when you reach the finish line of a marathon later than you'd hoped.  When a long-awaited letter shows up.  When you finally arrive at that one place in the world you've always wanted to get to.  When something you've been studying for a long time sinks in.  When you find peace. When you're still filled with doubts about something and it scares you, but you do it anyway.   These are all definitely better late than never.

However, it wasn't appropriate tonight when I ARRIVED LATE for a Christmas dinner with two dear friends. ('Better late than never' that at least I didn't have a car accident, yes.  But 'better late than never' as an answer for being late, no.)  I got there 8 minutes late and was greeted by, "I was just telling her that I was shocked that you weren't here yet because you're never late."  I apologized and said that it was a good thing I hadn't finished the blog I'd been working on yesterday where I proclaimed that I'm almost always on time. I hadn't finished it because I couldn't find an ending.  That is, until we exchanged gifts and I received a tube of shiny new lip gloss!  Better late than never.   And for those of you that have been asking for the next blog, here it is.  Meglio tardi che mai.