What came first; the chicken or the egg? I’m a firm believer that it was the chicken, eggs can’t lay eggs. It had to be the chicken…just had to be, didn’t it?
It really doesn’t matter if it was the chicken or the egg, the fact is we have both now and that’s that! It also has little to do with me getting anywhere, first. I have a fetish, a fear really, about making it to an appointment or gathering, late, and am almost always the first person at whatever event might require a time frame. I will forgo makeup, will allow my hair to have it’s way, and don whatever outfit is nearest, at hand, so that my arrival will not be the last. It stems from having experienced stares and finger-pointing as a child.
Our mother, lovely lady that she was, never had a hair out of place; her makeup was impeccably applied, and never, never arrived to any event on time. She surpassed the “fashionably late” status by, at least 30-minutes, no matter what her destiny. We—the 7 of us—were the family that everyone turned to watch close the doors to the auditorium during church…and I’m not referring to the closing that proceeds the church services, we were there late, someone standing at the door to warn us not to open them until the prayer had finished. I can assure you that, as a child, I never heard a full sermon, but boy oh boy, did my mom look great! Late to school, not a problem…yea, right, we actually enjoyed riding the bus because the bus driver had a sense of timing that our mom lacked.
Once, due to time factors converging, I arrived for a job interview with my dentures flopping loosely in my mouth. It takes time to get dentures to seat properly, if they’re ill-fitting at best, so I had to make the best of a bad situation. I got the job, but I’m convinced it was because the lady felt sorry for me.
I have two time frames; early, or not at all!!!
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