I'm always early. The virtue of promptness was pounded into me as a child.

"There's no excuse for being late," my father would say. "In the Navy, they told us if our train was late, we should have taken an earlier train."

So what happens is I'm forever waiting for other people. Or I'm waiting for a meeting to start. Like right now.

This morning I was determined to be just "on time" for a workshop on Self Esteem. My calendar said the program ran from 8:30 to 3:30, so I arrived at a respectful 8:20, immediately dismayed there were so few cars in the parking lot. It seems that registration starts at 8:30 and the program at 9. So I'm killing time by writing. And so much for my self-esteem.

Not only am not I always early, but meetings generally start late because the speaker is giving people "a few more minutes to get here."

"These thing never start on time," is an often-heard phrase, and unfortunately, it's true. Even though I know this intellectually, I can't seem to manage to get at a meeting just on time.

So if I'm ever late, send out the posse. Some evil must have befallen me. On the other hand, I might be lost. That's another problem I have.

I always allow for "lost" time, and so far, always more than I need. Even though I make two wrong turns and go ten miles out of my way, I still get to where I'm going early. For those who share this affliction, I recommend Anne Tyler's book, The Accidental Tourist. It won't help you find your way, but while you're lost, you'll lovingly remember the entire family in the book who suffers from "Geographical Dyslexia." It helps not to feel alone.

I need to stop writing now. It's 9:10 and the program is about to begin. Not too bad.