Most of my life is spent being late for something or
overreacting to something I feel is “happening” to me. It’s a state of mind
that can best be described as always in an intense, important, all encompassing
rush. Out of all of my faults, most of which I’ve accepted and decided not to
try to change at this point (I mean what IS the point? I’m almost 30. Old dog,
new tricks. Blah, blah,) these are two I would really like to change. I think I
would be a happier, more care-free person. I’m all for that. I mean, I don’t
need to be like, hippie/surfer care-free. I’m too smart and self-aware for
that. But, more “chill?” Yes, please. Today was one of those days where both of
these faults clashed in a perfect storm of tiny, well-timed events that will
definitely not sound like that big of a deal, but if you were a fly on the wall
in my parking garage this morning, you would’ve seen the very definition of “flying
off the handle.”
Almost every morning I take a Pilates class that I must sign
up for online prior to class to confirm my attendance. If I don’t show up, they
charge a $15 penalty charge to my credit card. The classes are also intense and
only 40 minutes long, so if I’m 2 minutes late, I’ve missed the whole warm-up.
This morning I signed up for the noon class. I had decided to try to be really
productive and start a load of laundry before I left for class. It takes me
exactly 6 minutes to get to Pilates and exactly 4 minutes to walk down to the
laundry room in the parking garage, put the quarters, the soap, and the clothes
in the machine and start the load. So, naturally I rushed out of my apartment
at 11:51am with my load in my arms, my purse on my shoulder, my quarters in my left
hand, and my keys in my mouth. I awkwardly locked my apartment door and dashed
off. (If you’re doing the math in your
head right now, you’re right. I was already a minute behind schedule,
naturally.) I hurried out of the
elevator to the laundry room, unlocked the door (because it locks automatically)
and set everything down on my machine. Checked my phone: 11:54am. Eek! I was behind schedule. I began
to throw the clothes in the machine at a hurried rate. In my rush, I knocked my
keys off the machine and onto the floor. I would have to remember to get them
later. My hands fumbled as I tried to get the 8 quarters in the slots. “Why are
they so damn tiny?!?” I hurried faster. I started my machine and set my laundry
basket on top like I normally do to lay claim. I grabbed my purse and my soap
and rushed out the door toward my car, letting the door slam behind me. Normally,
I like gentle door closes but, I was late! Checked my phone: 11:55am. I’ve
never made it to class in 5 minutes but if I sped, rolled through a couple stop
signs, and there was no traffic on Crescent Heights, I was certain I could do
it. I was actually really excited at the challenge. “This is gonna be a good
day, Andrea,” I said to myself. I got to my car and reached for my keys.....
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh god, oh god…” I mumbled as I
frantically dug in my purse for my keys knowing full well they were on the
laundry room floor. “Aaaahhhh!” I yelled
this as I ran to the laundry room door to try to open it, just in case this was
the one time it wouldn’t have automatically locked. It was locked. “Shit! Shit!”
Checked my phone: 11:56am. I was panicking! My boyfriend/roommate was at
breakfast with a friend so I had been locked out of my car and my apartment and
was probably not even getting to class at all at this point! “The landlord!” I
yelled. I could NOT for the life of me remember what his apartment number was! I
didn’t have his phone number! I didn’t know what to do! They were going to charge $15 to my card and I
won’t get my, oh so important work out in for the day! This would make me feel
lazy and bad about myself for the rest of the day! What if I couldn’t get to my
keys?! How long would I have to wait outside? Could I run to class? I would
never make it on time! My day had gone from great to god awful in 30 seconds! I
grabbed my phone and dialed my boyfriend’s number. Maybe he could bring me his
key. As the phone rang, I spotted one of
our old, Russian lady neighbors on the 3rd floor on her way to the elevator.
My boyfriend answered and I screamed, “Nevermind!” And I hung up. He never
questioned it as this is a regular occurrence. I ran to press the elevator
button so I would catch my Russian savior on the way down. I just prayed she
would have her key to the laundry room. Checked my phone: 11:58am. Ugh! I was
so mad, I was panting and fuming. “I might as well not even go,” I pouted to myself much like a 1st
grader would. “Even if she’s got the
keys, I’ll be so late. Everyone will look at me when I walk in. It will be
awful.” The elevator seemed to be taking FOREVER. I pressed the elevator button
over and over, not because I thought it would come faster, but because it was
making me feel better. The doors opened and I yelled, “DO YOU HAVE YOUR KEY TO
THE LAUNDRY ROOM?!?!” My Russian lady neighbor’s eyes widened and her head
cocked to the side a bit. “I was doing laundry and my keys fell on the floor
and the door locked behind me and I’m locked out of my apartment and my car and
I’M REALLY LATE FOR A PILATES CLASS…..” Wah, wah, wah, why me, me, me.
She gently motioned for me to step into the elevator and she
took us down the garage. As we got to the laundry room door, she pulled out her
key and stopped, turned to me, put her hand on my arm and in a Russian accent said,
“I’ll open this for you if you promise to breathe and relax. You’re too young
and beautiful to be so anxious. Also, this laundry room is too expensive and
dirty. You shouldn’t use it.”
I was mostly surprised she spoke English, but these words
really resonated with me. She had made me realize how worked-up I had gotten
over almost nothing. I had spent the last 5 minutes giving myself a heart
attack and feeling sorry for myself. It was a big fat dose of perspective. I
mean, Holy Crap. What is wrong with me? Checked my phone: 11:59am. I thanked my
new mentor profusely, retrieved my keys and trotted to my car and I was going to
be OK with being late to class. It just was not a big deal. During the car
ride, I took deep breaths. I thought about how silly I had behaved and how
there were so many people in the world that have it much worse than I. I should
never be so upset. I began to list all the things I was grateful for. It was a
nice drive.
My Pilates class started 5 minutes late today.
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