I hate being late. And I hate when other people are late.
I know it happens—life happens. But before I had kids, I was rarely late. I shouldn’t say never, but it was uncommon. Now? Kids change the game. But let’s be honest—sometimes, it’s not the kids.
Like today, for example. I was late, and it had nothing to do with them. I underestimated my time. I thought I had more minutes than I did, and then suddenly, I decided to do everything before leaving the house—wash two loads of laundry, start the dishwasher, make coffee, eat breakfast. And before I knew it, I was rushing out the door already behind schedule.
And I hated walking in late.
For me, being on time is about respect. I believe showing up when you say you will is a way to communicate that you value someone else’s time. If I’m hosting something, I try to start and end on time. And I appreciate when others do the same.
Tardiness—whether mine or someone else's—just feels like a lack of consideration. I absolutely hate when I’m the one running behind, and I strongly dislike when it happens to me.
But here’s the thing: I’m a peacemaker. I’m not going to make a big deal about it. I won’t call you out or make a scene. But in my mind? Oh, I notice.
What about you? Are you someone who values punctuality, or do you operate on a different timeline? Let’s talk about it.
