50 Days ‘til 50 Day 3--Better Late Than Never?

50 Days 'Til 50Day 3Better Late Than Never?Why are putting the first words down the hardest? It’s been several days in my attempt to get 50 blogs down in 50 days. For my first blog it may have been a big undertaking. Do blogger’s have full time jobs as well? I wonder even if I didn’t work if I would have been able to keep up with the challenge. Ah, the life of a writer. I'm learning. An author friend of mine told me this week, “Josh, even if you just write a few words a day, that’s fine. Each blog doesn’t need to be paragraphs long.” I guess that helped a little.Well, no matter…here we continue…My first memory of truly running habitually late was in high school. I'm sure there were many more infractions prior to these years but my parents would have usually bore the weight of any of these delinquencies. I probably would have said something to the effect of “my Mom was running late” therefore excusing my own tardiness. God forbid I would ever lay claim to my own defects of character, especially as a teenager. I used to blame it on my sleep patterns. Accepting that I was and still am a sleeper and was always a bit slow out of the gate in the mornings causing me to have to sprint those last 10 minutes to my morning destination or appointment. My Mom used to come into my room to make sure I was still breathing after an 11-hour night of sleep. It never felt unusual to me even though no one in my household ever slept this way. I went to high school in Durham, NH, home to the University of New Hampshire. Our house was just under 2 miles from the high school, which was the cut off from receiving bus service to the school…of course. As both my Moms worked, it was usually by my own feet that I would have to get myself there. Through sleet, rain, and snow it didn’t matter. I had to get myself there. I remember many a day running out of the house with wet hair, in the freezing cold, sprinting the 2 mile run to the school and defrosting my frozen hair onto my paper work during first period. When it came to my senior year, my counselor at school somehow worked it out that I didn’t have any classes during that first period time slot, hoping and praying that this would get me there on time.It did not. Usually hungry by this point, my late arrival would find me in the cafeteria eating sour cream and onion potato chips and chocolate milk (breakfast of champions) with some of the other lucky students who didn’t have or wouldn’t go to their respective first period classes.Fortunately I was on time for my graduation but would then carry this horrible trait with me into my adult life both professionally and personally. Employers and friends would learn very quickly to tell me to be there 30 minutes earlier than I needed to be which I usually caught on very quickly and squashed any attempts by them to keep me timely.In my adult life from time to time I have sought the help of professional therapists. I know it’s not for everyone but they have helped me immensely in my life journey and getting through some very difficult times. It would not take long for them to realize I was one of the “late clients”. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve paid the fees for missed appointments, or receiving only 20 minutes of the hour booked and still having to pay for the full hour appointment.Something had to change and I knew that would have to come from me. Sigh…. This amazing therapist in Miami who I saw professionally off and on for almost 10 years decided to dig deep and get proactive in my recovery from this affliction. She actually did describe it as an “illness” citing many different medical terms for those of us out there in the world who cant seem to pull it together to be on time. She had labels for all the different types of folks who were on-time deficient. I don’t remember all the traits of each type but remember her talking about four different types. I don’t know if I was excited there was a diagnosis as to what I always thought of as “its no big deal, its just the way I am” or sad that I had to accept yet another label about myself.The first are called the Adrenaline Junkies, those who are addicted to the adrenaline rush of that last minute sprint to get where we need to go. When we fall short, we feel defeated and the positive quickly turns to dread. She determined this was the category I fell into combined with a bit of #4 (see below).The second type I think was called the Overachievers. These types over-schedule their days and are under the delusion they can make breakfast, shower, do a load of laundry, go to the bank and the grocery store and get to work all in under an hour. I used to make a joke with my clients and friends that I could get anywhere in Miami Dade county in ten minutes or less. (I really thought I could).Third, and I cant remember the name, but are those who are linked to attention deficit disorder and it is difficult for them to get from point A to point B without getting distracted by C, D, and E.Lastly and I remember this one well, she called this fourth one the Rebel. Its those types who actually enjoy being late, liking the idea of knowing people are waiting for them, and make a show out of being late just by, well being late.  It’s a selfish, self important kind of trait and to me bothers me the most in its description because it sounds so premeditated and just downright mean. It’s linked to control, ego, and of course fear.  Although she made me see some of myself in this one, I think its one of the easiest to overcome just by trying to live life and trying to be the nicest person you can be. Much of it falls away if I learn to be more kind, more tolerant of others, and more respectful of people and their own time, ironically just what I want from my friends and loved ones towards me.So sometimes its not enough to just say, “well, this is me and you’ll just have to deal with it”.  Sometimes it takes daily conscious work on myself to take each day as it comes, stay very aware of my behaviors and my actions, and just try and do the next right thing. The rest somehow just takes care of itself.  Until next time, I'm running late for my next meeting.jf