Being late
I hate being late. I hate it when other people are late. Maybe it is an obsession or maybe it is the 12 years of Catholic education and great teachers like Joe Kroh who taught the value of honoring commitments. Stephanie will tell you too many stories about how I obsess about being on time to parties. "Gregory (the name she only uses when she is upset with me) it is a party; why the do you want to be on time?" She says with a deeply annoyed and aggravated tone. I am the guy who actually shows up at 5:30 when the invite says the party starts at 5:30 but most people understand that everyone will arrive around 7. Whatever – maybe I am crazy. I have learned that there is one exception to my perpetual desire to never be tardy. Chemo days. I become the pokiest person on Earth those days. I move around without a care in the world. I drive in the slow lane. I let everyone in front of me in line. ...