Friday, January 13, 2006

 

Tardiness

I'm never late. Except for the fun stuff, and then I'm habitually late. It is starting to bug me.

I don't care about my job; it pays the bills. I don't care about my volunteer pursuits; they're just that. I don't care about a lot of things, yet I don't dare be late.

Why is it though, that the things I care about most, family and friend social events, I can never show up on time for? There is something to be said for being fashionably late, but there is also something to be said for dependability. I have the best of intentions, but when I get ready to leave, the OCD kicks in and suddenly I must wash my hands seven times, go to the bathroom twice, scrub the toilets, and wash my hands eight more times. Honestly, what happens if I don't? Not too much. My hands won't be less clean if I wash only once, and my toilets will be OK for one more day. I will need to pee and poop, but why make them such a big production? Skip the magazine if you're in a hurry.

This posting isn't very funny, but it's bugging me, so now that I've gotten that off of my chest, read everything else. They are much funnier.

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