The oft quoted Burns said, “the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” Really, this overly used cliché was overly true of my life this past week.
I’ve prided myself in the past on my conscientious timeliness and organisation. I’m the queen of planning out my days down to the hour and sticking to schedule with what some friends find annoying precision. Late for a meeting or a dinner? Nope, never me.
I’m losing my exactitude.
JMPH’s folks’ first day in Bangladesh and I invite them to the Club for swimming and dinner. JMPH’s neglects to reply to my invite and I assume they’re not coming. Later that night I’m goofily dancing to Britney Spear’s newest single in BFF’s livingroom.
I answer my phone to discover they are at the Club, ready and waiting for me to sign them in.
30 minutes later we make it through horrendous traffic and I splutter excuses and apologies.
I’m lying on my sofa reading, too tired from illness the day before to move.
It’s Phil at the park with Micah and Nathan, waiting for me to show for our scheduled run together.
Whoops. Again I splutter excuses and apologies, thinking this was getting familiar.
My chance at redemption! I’m supposed to pick up JMPH’s Mum at 10am. I meticulously tell BFF to be awake, groomed, and beautiful by 9:30am. 9:15 rolls around.
“Gimme an extra five minutes to get ready.”
By 9:40 I’m tapping my foot outside her door as she wanders about vaguely looking for her shoes. 9:45 and we’re finally out the door. Unfortunately my directional abilities aren’t as finely tuned as some, like say a geography specialist, so I get us lost enroute to the guesthouse. Finally we give up looking and ring JMPH, who gallantly guides us to his waiting Mum.
But wait, there’s more. Last week I was late to a baby shower, an English tutoring session, BFF’s, not to mention that I didn’t even make it to K2.
My carefully made plans are going awry, leaving nasty impressions with my friends.