Promptness

My mother generally runs late for things. (The family joke is that when it's time to go, that means that it is time for her to brush her teeth and put in a load of laundry- and then get shoes on and go.)

My father's family- especially my grandmother- runs early. We were an hour early for high holiday services even when my mother wasn't singing in the choir. My grandmother took my sister, a friend of ours and me to a movie that was reputed to have long lines- we got there an hour early, even though we were going to a matinee. That side of my family is the reason that you Don't give out a time earlier than you really want to start things as the start time for events to get the latecomes to be on time- they'll be there 5 to 10 minutes before the time you give out.

I have generally followed my paternal family's tendencies- both through my own desire to be prompt, and a sense of embarassment at showing up late. (When I was in 4th grade, My hebrew school teacher was notoriously late to arrive and start class. One week, I was waiting, and waiting, and waiting for Mom to get out of the house so we could head to Hebrew school. As things turned out, I got to class after the teacher. I was petrified, and decided that from then on, I was going to be there early, and I was going to make sure of it. This translated into nudging my mother starting half an hour before we really needed to leave, for a while. But well- eventually, it turned into just showing up to things early.)

Of late- I think 5 years of JST (Jewish Standard Time) have been rubbing off on me a little, especially since showing up on time to get togethers with many of my friends here means waiting around for quite a while, often enough. While that's pretty ok with me, it often feels a touch like I'm inconveniencing my host, and that I'd rather not do.

So today, in the aim of getting to dinner with folks, I managed to misguess the amount of time it would take to get where I was getting, then follow that up with waffling about precise method of transport. So, I ended up with company for the trip over, but I also ended up about half an hour late, and I felt pretty darn silly about it. This is, perhaps, a signal that I ought to not let myself get quite so loose about timing. (But then I was a few minutes early for the other thing I was going to from there, and that was done with an improvised-as-I-went travel plan, and stupidly popping myself onto a subway going the wrong direction, and then having to reverse myself to get where I was actually going.)

In the middle of those two things, I had dinner with friends, and saw a very small amount of the Guggenheim Museum, which was mildly decreased by enjoying an exibit with lots of multicolored flashing lights that left me a little dizzy/unfocused afterwards. Some people have weak stomachs, I seem to have a weak inner ear. Silly thing.

Promptness

My mother generally runs late for things. (The family joke is that when it's time to go, that means that it is time for her to brush her teeth and put in a load of laundry- and then get shoes on and go.)

My father's family- especially my grandmother- runs early. We were an hour early for high holiday services even when my mother wasn't singing in the choir. My grandmother took my sister, a friend of ours and me to a movie that was reputed to have long lines- we got there an hour early, even though we were going to a matinee. That side of my family is the reason that you Don't give out a time earlier than you really want to start things as the start time for events to get the latecomes to be on time- they'll be there 5 to 10 minutes before the time you give out.

I have generally followed my paternal family's tendencies- both through my own desire to be prompt, and a sense of embarassment at showing up late. (When I was in 4th grade, My hebrew school teacher was notoriously late to arrive and start class. One week, I was waiting, and waiting, and waiting for Mom to get out of the house so we could head to Hebrew school. As things turned out, I got to class after the teacher. I was petrified, and decided that from then on, I was going to be there early, and I was going to make sure of it. This translated into nudging my mother starting half an hour before we really needed to leave, for a while. But well- eventually, it turned into just showing up to things early.)

Of late- I think 5 years of JST (Jewish Standard Time) have been rubbing off on me a little, especially since showing up on time to get togethers with many of my friends here means waiting around for quite a while, often enough. While that's pretty ok with me, it often feels a touch like I'm inconveniencing my host, and that I'd rather not do.

So today, in the aim of getting to dinner with folks, I managed to misguess the amount of time it would take to get where I was getting, then follow that up with waffling about precise method of transport. So, I ended up with company for the trip over, but I also ended up about half an hour late, and I felt pretty darn silly about it. This is, perhaps, a signal that I ought to not let myself get quite so loose about timing. (But then I was a few minutes early for the other thing I was going to from there, and that was done with an improvised-as-I-went travel plan, and stupidly popping myself onto a subway going the wrong direction, and then having to reverse myself to get where I was actually going.)

In the middle of those two things, I had dinner with friends, and saw a very small amount of the Guggenheim Museum, which was mildly decreased by enjoying an exibit with lots of multicolored flashing lights that left me a little dizzy/unfocused afterwards. Some people have weak stomachs, I seem to have a weak inner ear. Silly thing.