My mother always said I would be late for my own funeral, a play on words and an insult in one swift blow. Well I say ‘so what’. I’ll admit I beat to a different drum and I mean no disrespect to the people I keep waiting, it’s just that my clock’s a bit off. And besides, you aren’t late until you
get there right?
I’ve always been this way and I don’t expect any great change any time soon, the old dog new tricks thing is science as far as I'm concerned. I just cruise along at my own speed. I could pay someone for professional advice, find out why I do it, but I’d be late for the appointment and then I’d have to pay for my tardiness. It might have something to do with being denied birth when my mother was forced to ride the agonizing waves of labour when they tied her legs together and her hands to the bedside rail because there wasn't a doctor to deliver me. That was the first time I was late, and it snowballed from there. Why couldn't that experience have scarred me for life? Made me what I am today? What better excuse to fall back on when I get the evil eye as I breeze in late, "Hey, man, it's not my fault; I was blue at birth!" And another thing, I hope I’m late for my own funeral, it might mean I’m not quite dead!
I’m the polar opposite of those people who show up way too early for appointments. In the past, after waiting hours for a doctor I learned that showing up early just compiles the wait time. If the appointment is at 10:00, show up at five to or maybe a minute before; perfectly acceptable and will cut down on the time you have to warm a seat. My time is important too and I’m not willing to spend one minute more than necessary waiting on someone else's schedule.
It’s not like my life is brain surgery where a minute can mean the difference between life and death. And, it’s not like waiting rooms are one of the top 10 places to hang, they are filled with outdated magazines and dead skin cells of all those who came before me. I’m not about to strike up conversations with waiting strangers, people who I’ll probably never see again so I just keep my head down, twiddle my thumbs and count the minutes.
Anyway, after dropping off the hounds, I arrived at the shop unfashionably early and put in eight hours of glorious work. Number one on the agenda was a cup of coffee, the first in three days and it tasted marvelous! Then juiced with caffeine I sprang into action and accomplished many items on the list, especially one that I had been putting off for some time. A client wanted a 26”x 26” portrait of the Mona Lisa and it turned out even better than I anticipated and I’m sure she’ll be pleased. She loved Mary Doig’s Mona Christmas Stocking but said she wanted to hook the piece and display it all year round so she opted to make a pillow and I offered to design it for her. I started from scratch because I needed a lot more detail of the background and Mona’s body. I love designing, it's one of the aspects of my shop that gives me the most satisfaction.
Today was what one would call perfect,. Work was crazy fun and at the end of the day, I was rewarded with four pups all washed, clipped and blown into bouffant cotton swabs. There's no more precious sight than my four babies in their formal wear.
And I forgot to mention how wonderful the weather was! After this past weekend's fiasco, it was almost surreal. A divine +5, the cherry on the day! It doesn’t get much better than that!