I have a disease. It’s a terrible and sad disease. I suffer from both wanting to be early or on time for every appointment coupled with a need to complete a massive to do list. If I could simply be ok with one or the other, I think it could work out nicely. But no, I want the best of both worlds.
My solution is figure out exactly when I need to leave the house to get to my exercise class, pick up the wee ones from school, attend a meeting, etc. by determining how long it takes to get there. And then I add ten minutes to account for the time warp I get stuck in between the time I look at the clock as I walk out the door and manage to turn my car on and start backing it from the garage.
For example, I once go to tae kwon do from my house in eight minutes. I had no cars going 35 miles per hour in the 50 zone, and I hit every light. But hey, I made it to tae kwon do in 8 minutes, so therefore it takes eight minutes to get there. I’ll ignore the fact that I only got there that quickly once in the past three years.
It takes 13 minutes to drive to the wee ones’ school with the same constraints. However, I’ve figured out that if I arrive ten minutes before school ends, I can get a parking spot. I always have work to do in the school for the PTO, so that works out perfectly. My goal is to leave just as the middle school bus is driving past my house. It’s like my personal alarm clock, and I love it.
For my 9:30 exercise class, I know I need to leave by 9:15 to give me time to change my shoes and get into class before it starts. I’d like to leave by 9:10 so that I can be early. The wee ones get on the bus around 8:23 (yes, around 8:23), which means I have almost 45 minutes to get things done before I need to leave my house. That’s plenty of time to empty the dishwasher. Or start a load of laundry. Or write a post. Or check my email. Or respond to comments. Or maybe even make myself some breakfast. Oddly, I can’t quite fit all that in.
I do my best to prioritize, however. I’ll make my breakfast and sit down in front of my computer to check my email quickly and then write a blog post. When I finish, I’ll check the time – and I usually have a good five or ten minutes before I need to leave the house, so I’ll take on another task, like emptying the dishwasher or starting a load of laundry. Except I forget that starting a load of laundry in my house doesn’t mean simply tossing everything from the basket into the washing machine and starting it.
No, I have to go through each and every item. My husband still hasn’t figured out how to sort light and dark items. And the wee ones? Half the clothes in their laundry baskets are actually clean clothes that they didn’t feel like putting away. Or clothes they put on then immediately took off because they didn’t match/were not appropriate for where they were going/weren’t comfortable/who knows why. Or maybe they’re socks rolled up in a ball suitable for bowling that will never get clean in the washing machine as is. When I check the clock again, it’s magically 9:18 and I can still make it to class on time, but I won’t be able to change shoes before the class starts.
And that’s usually when I realize that I forgot to get dressed.
So if you see me dashing into my exercise class a minute or two late. Or parking halfway down the block from school and hoofing it, hoping against hope that the wee ones’ classes haven’t been released yet. Or walking into dinner after my friends have already ordered their drinks, know that I have the best of intentions to be on time. And I had planned to be on time.
But there was … just. one. more. thing. And I couldn’t help myself. I suffer from one-more-thingitis after all. I hope you’ll understand.