I like to call myself an easygoing person. In fact, when asked to describe myself in a few words, my reply usually sounds or looks something like "upbeat, caring, funny, reliable, and easygoing." But the more I get to know myself, the more I realize that there are a handful of things that I am actually pretty high maintenance about. Case in point: Time.
I come from a family that is easygoing in reality, so I'm not exactly sure how or when I became such a scheduling nutjob, but it happened. I recall traveling as a 12 and 13-year-old and being absolutely convinced that if I didn't present myself at the train station at least 20 minutes prior to the boarding time, it would be akin to missing the train altogether by an hour. This, of course, would have been The End of the World as I Knew It.
I also take issue with cancellations. If I have scheduled dinner with a friend, and that friend decides against having dinner with me for any reason other than a violent flu or a death in the family, my brain sends the message to my heart that I've been gravely offended or am being cast aside and surely the friendship is in danger. Friends who decline pre-scheduling time with me when asked will find me easily agitated and more than occasionally passive-aggressive toward the situation.
When I schedule an evening with myself to take a pre-dusk walk (to be confirmed with Friend prior to 7pm), make chicken curry, and watch Sandra Bullock save the day, any interruption of that plan is unacceptable and possibly day-ruining.
Which is why tonight, when a single mother texted me just 40 minutes prior to the Commencement of My Evening and asked for immediate assistance with child care due to a last-minute invitation to a barbeque, I said yes. Yes to playing with her two-year-old while she enjoyed a well-deserved evening with friends. Yes to being okay with changing my plans, and to allowing myself to enjoy a different outcome to my evening. Yes to practicing the art of easygoing, which, in this case, turned out to be a pretty fantastic trial run.
I come from a family that is easygoing in reality, so I'm not exactly sure how or when I became such a scheduling nutjob, but it happened. I recall traveling as a 12 and 13-year-old and being absolutely convinced that if I didn't present myself at the train station at least 20 minutes prior to the boarding time, it would be akin to missing the train altogether by an hour. This, of course, would have been The End of the World as I Knew It.
I also take issue with cancellations. If I have scheduled dinner with a friend, and that friend decides against having dinner with me for any reason other than a violent flu or a death in the family, my brain sends the message to my heart that I've been gravely offended or am being cast aside and surely the friendship is in danger. Friends who decline pre-scheduling time with me when asked will find me easily agitated and more than occasionally passive-aggressive toward the situation.
When I schedule an evening with myself to take a pre-dusk walk (to be confirmed with Friend prior to 7pm), make chicken curry, and watch Sandra Bullock save the day, any interruption of that plan is unacceptable and possibly day-ruining.
Which is why tonight, when a single mother texted me just 40 minutes prior to the Commencement of My Evening and asked for immediate assistance with child care due to a last-minute invitation to a barbeque, I said yes. Yes to playing with her two-year-old while she enjoyed a well-deserved evening with friends. Yes to being okay with changing my plans, and to allowing myself to enjoy a different outcome to my evening. Yes to practicing the art of easygoing, which, in this case, turned out to be a pretty fantastic trial run.
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