I've always been told to write what I know. Write about your experiences. Hell write about yourself. So here goes:
I've always admired punctual people with their ability to be on time to almost every event of their lives. Whether it be to meetings, class, work, appointments, etc. they are there right on time. I, on the other hand, am late for EVERYTHING! Late for class, work, appointments, meetings, etc. I believe it's quite frustrating, especially for the people around me. If I had to pick one, I'd say I'm most late for work. I'm scheduled to work right at 9AM and instead have developed the habit of coming in anytime between 9:15-9:30. My kind hearted, white haired, Mother Theresa like boss wonders and calls around 9:30 and when I do come in, kindly reminds me to come in on time. So what do I the next time around? Come in at 9:45. At this rate I'm going to be late for my own funeral and according to my religion (even though I'm not religious) I must be cremated. I'm think I'm fucked.
I think the reason I'm always late is the fact that I truly hate my job. I sit here and use Facebook, Gmail, Hulu and youtube to occupy my work day. I'm a copy-machine bitch with an insultingly small desk and mindless tasks to complete. I'm Vibha-tron 2012: meeting your typing tasks since 2007 with no end in sight :(. I need a real job, one where I have to use Facebook when I'm on my lunch break and when my boss isn't looking not one where I need to use it to occupy my time. But I digress.
I believe my lateness began the day I was born. My mother told me she needed to get many ultrasounds when I was a bun baking in her oven because I apparently didn't move around or kick a lot and she, my dad and the doctor were concerned. But they didn't have to fret for long because on that fateful day in November I came out into the world, guns blazing at full speed ahead in all my brown full-head-of-hair glory!!!!!!!!...unannounced, a week early, during a blizzard where they couldn't drive to the hospital in the tiny apartment they lived in. As you can see, good timing was never my strong suit.
While some women consider childbirth magical, my mother considers it one of the most horrifying and embarrassing experiences in her life, still wishing to this day she could've been swallowed up by a hole in the ground. But to her defense, having fireman, police officers and medical professionals watch as she pushed a screaming, crying, pooping (but glorious nonetheless) bundle of joy out of her vagina would make her blush at least a little. At least I can say I never do anything without at least a little bit of flare, pizazz and ridiculousness.
So anyway, I'm late for stuff a lot. I'm working on it. I"m hoping the people I love will still love me besides my lateness.
I dedicate this first entry to Ellen and Janelle, two sources of inspiration for this blog and life. Without their own ridiculousness, I don't know where I would be. What's a bad ass brownie to do without a couple of crackers for support?
I will get more ridiculousness with time. Please bear with me. This is the firs of many shades of ridiculousness...
