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A Confession..

I steal time. I’m never an hour late, as in I care nothing about the time of others. It’s more like, three to eight minutes late and it's fairly consistent. Some people may argue that “if your not five minutes early, your 10 minutes late”, that is not me and I disagree. Here’s why: I’m not late because I can’t tell time, because I double-booked, or because I don’t care. In fact, quite the opposite, actually I am late because I care – too much about too many things, people, issues, causes, and moments that I want to fully live in and experience. We are all busy. I’m willing to bet I am not the only three-to-eight minute late girl out there struggling to squeeze time out of the continuum. In my struggle to be “on-time”, I have been thinking about the seconds I’ve stretched and when I reflect and ask myself if I regret any of it and I realize I just don’t. I would not have traded the three minutes I spent watching my little boy play a song for me on his drums for the fourth time to jump on a call and miss pleasantries and introductions. I would not exchange the extra minutes added on to my commute because I lingered at home a moment longer to say goodbye to my husband. I would not hang up the call with my sister, best friend, or mom for five more minutes to answer emails, or do anything else. So there it is – the grand, or not-so-grand confession of a girl that steals time that does not belong to her. In the interest of time, what or who are you willing to steal for?

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