They say time is money, so why am I poor? I mean, that can’t be good, right? Maybe it’s because I tend to be late. And by late, I don’t mean fashionably late; I have no fashion sense. My style is like boho-chic meets business casual. It’s as if I’m trying to make a statement that I’m against conformity while simultaneously wanting to fit in. It’s very confusing. I think I’m more of a trendsitter than a trendsetter, meaning I sit and wait on a trend until it’s no longer trendy anymore. I’m always late jumping on the bandwagon, and then everyone is like, “Dude, that was so last year.”
One thing I’m not late for is a party. I swear my internal clock is set to party time. However, I do tend to stay too late, especially when it’s a birthday party. I’ve found that sometimes they’ll give me leftover food and cake just to get me to leave. It’s like they’ve figured out my kryptonite: the promise of free cake.
I wish I wasn’t late for the early bird special at restaurants. Although, given the old adage, “the early bird catches the worm,” I have to wonder: do they serve spaghetti made out of worms? I wouldn’t know because I’ve never made it to an early bird special. It’s probably a good thing because I would probably open a can of worms with the restaurant if I told everyone their ‘early bird special’ might just involve actual worms. That would definitely complicate my chances of getting a free dessert! Knowing my luck, the dessert would be mud pie. Speaking of worms though, I’m not in any hurry to become worm food myself.
Sometimes, I think I’ll even be late for my own funeral, but who really wants to be on time for that? When the time comes, I want to call the undertaker and say, “You know I’m going to be just a few years late, right?” I’m sure the undertaker will understand. In fact, he’ll probably expect it, considering my track record.
And speaking of track records, I think my personal best is showing up a solid 45 minutes late to a meeting because I got lost in the black hole of the internet, reading about the history of the spork. Fascinating stuff, but not exactly time well spent. No wonder I’m poor.