I'm not late

It wasn't until the second day here that I had the following insight: I'm ALWAYS late. From the moment I wake up [to an alarm clock that is set ahead 22 minutes to try and scoot ahead of Being Late] to crawling into bed at night...with still one or two more e-mails that I really SHOULD try to finish before tomorrow...I'm late. Alice in Wonderland itis. I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date. No time to say hello or goodbye. I'm late. I'm late. I'm late.

It is day two and my VIT - very important task - is to get us cell phones. Brent is going to the hospital for a series of meetings and I'm to get us our phones. I tried on day one, but the phones had not been delivered to the Vonage store that day. I decide to stop by the Telecom store and Dick's Electronics to price check before heading over to Vonage. This is unusual for two reasons:
1. It is NOT efficient [Efficiency is very important to someone who is always late]
2. I am checking prices. This is a new phenomenon. Brought on by the economy [or the decline in our savings value]; my lack of income at this point in time [first time since I'm 13 that I'm not working full time] and Brent telling me several times each day that we need to watch our spending [was this before or after he bought his set of golf clubs??? - don't worry, they are "used"].

I finally determine that the Vonage store has better service than Dick's and better prices than NZ Telecom so I am standing in line. Waiting. And it doesn't bother me. I notice this and think to myself I am waiting...maybe for a long time...and it doesn't bother me. I don't have anyplace to go. No one is waiting for me. I am not late for anything. This realization brings on a sense of ecstatsy. A quiet, soothing, slightly intoxicating ecstatsy. I say it again. I am not late. It is finally my turn and Ryan, the store manager at Vonage, proceeds to walk me through the complexities of buying the phone; copying the SIM card; transferring the SIM card; registering; passwords; setting up Brent as my "best mate"; all sorts of things that typically would drive me crazy. I am patient. I start to think - have I been drugged? Is this excessive jet lag? Who is standing, leaning against this counter?

I left with the cell phones....and a wondering about the poisonous nature of being late.