Yesterday I was late for my dear friend Pam's birthday party.
I've known about this party for a long time. The invitation has been posted on my frig for about a month. I saw it every time I went into the freezer for a Trader Joe's Fiesta Fruit Bar (raspberry, lemon, strawberry layers!). With the heat that's been pretty often.
It's on my calendar on my phone as 2 PM, with an alarm set for 1:30 PM. I told someone else that was my schedule for Sunday. Sorry, I have to leave for this event at 1:30.
So I'm lallygagging around the house yesterday around 1:20 when I get a text from Pam - Where are you?
What are you talking about?! I thought to myself, I don't even need to leave the house for another 10 minutes. Jeez.
This was a milestone birthday and her family had asked us to share a story of how Pam had touched our life; I had written it out on the back of the invite earlier that morning (I tend to ramble...and cry...so having it written is helpful).
I flip the invite over, and there - PLAIN AS THE HAIR ON MY UPPER LIP - is 1 PM.
I was raised by a father whose motto was, "If you're on time - you're late." I took this to heart. I abhor being late. It makes me cranky and anxious.
Yet, I am often late since I moved here, because even after seven years, I still under estimate the traffic time suck. Fifteen minutes should be enough time to go five miles and sometimes it is not. I HATE that.
However, this is not just being late, it is time confusion. It's happened with movie times recently, so much so that I highly encourage people to double check the times.
But movies are one thing, people's milestone birthday's are another.
Is my dyscalculia acting up in my old age? I always thought I didn't have issues with the time portion of the learning disability - but apparently I do now.