Some people don’t seem to mind tardiness. I am lucky to know quite a few of them
I am a chronically late person. I am not proud of this. It is a flaw in my character, and I am certain many of you reading will agree, a significant one. Some people don’t seem to mind tardiness. I am lucky to know quite a few such people. But others, understandably, find chronic lateness the height of rudeness, and emblematic that an individual values their own time over that of everyone else.
My main issue is that I am easily distracted. I am somewhat childlike in my facility to have my attention captured by, well, literally anything. Most people grow out of this, but I seem to have grown further into it. (Although I suppose children don’t regularly catch sight of an interesting coverline on a copy of the New Yorker lying around the house, and get drawn into a 20,000-word article while shower-wet hair begs to be dried.)
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