I Hate Being Late

Being late is one of the things that stresses me out. I've noticed that peole fall into one of two types: the Time Concious and the Time Oblivious, and I am firmly in the former camp. Other people have nightmares about being chased, falling off a cliff, or being naked in public. I have those, too, but my worst ones are about missing an important flight or being hours late for work with no way of communicating to the person waiting for me.

This morning, I woke up in the dark worrying about the Christmas packages (non-calendar stuff and kids' gifts) that I sent last Monday by Priority Mail (Guaranteed 2-3 Days Delivery Most Locations!) Surely they should have made it by Friday (yesterday), and actually should have made it by Wednesday or Thursday.

Yesterday Paul brought home a box of all nine of our calendars that had been sent to our box at the UPS Store. I had asked the company, Digi-Labs, to send them individually to the intended recipients, they emailed me back saying they said they would, but it looks like they all got sent to me. Oh well, they're here, so I won't complain.

I sent an email to you all, asking if any of you had received one individually, and since everyone who replied back said no, I wrapped them and sent them off today. There was absolutely no line at the Post Office today, as people are aware that it's Just Too Late for Christmas delivery, so there was no stress at all, and I am happy that you all will get them before New Years'.

So why the early morning stress? you ask. Well, Becky said she hadn't gotten my package for Hannah Jo, either. This is upsetting to me, because late Christmas presents for adults, especially when warned about, are really no big deal. But to a kid, it can be really disappointing. Flaky as I can sometimes be, I've never let kids down with late Christmas or birthday presents, and I don't want to start now.

I can't help but wonder what other of my Monday packages still haven't made it. I know Mom & Ron's did because she emailed me Thursday. Eric & Rusty? Alec? And it's not even my fault! Stupid Post Office.