I now know how it feels.

The other day, I walked into the doctor’s small, stuffy office with my mom just in time for our 2:50 p.m. appointment. About 45 miserable minutes later, the doctor finally strolled in.

I was frustrated to say the least.

However, as I now play the scene out in my head, I realize that I am that doctor in so many aspects of my life. I am constantly late to church every Sunday. I just can’t seem to get to my soccer games early enough. I’m always delayed when I pick up my sister from a friend’s house. I could think of more situations where I am late versus when I am not late!

Despite my sister’s attempt to change all the clocks in our house so they read five minutes fast (I have grown used to knowing it’s fast and it has therefore become a pointless process), I just never seem to get ready and get my car started fast enough. Finding those keys has become a daily battle. I always seem to tell myself I have “two more minutes!”

I want to personally apologize to anyone I’ve ever kept waiting. Please, book me in your planners – just make sure you tell me to be there five minutes before you actually want to talk.