I ran errands yesterday at lunch.  As I was getting out of my car at the grocery store I heard two men screaming at each other about the time one of them had to wait in line; he only purchased a bouquet of flowers.  The anger in their voices amazed me.  Why are we all in such a hurry?  What happened to our patience quotient? Does an extra five or ten minutes actually ruin our day?  Sometimes.  Missing a flight could do that.

Maybe the Universe needs to send a Time Management Super Hero to help us all cope with the rush, rush, rush of getting to and fro.  I know that I pride myself on being on time for appointments, engagements and phone calls; I find it curtious to be either early or right on time.  Time is a commodity that needs to be traded on the DOW;  we’d all be grabbing a stock otions if it were.  But, alas, this is not the case. 

I wonder what was so urgent for the man with the flowers.  Will the recipient understand the frustration, anger and furry energy that wrapped themselves around those daisies?  I hope not.  And to think, he was buying flowers – how wonderful.  Maybe he was buying them as a token of forgiveness and that negative energy came through.  We’ll never know.

When I left the store I went across the street to the bank.  I had two different checks to deposit into two different accounts; I did this in the drive in.  Now, usually, no one’s at the drive up when I’m there, but yesterday, well two car engines idled, thousands of brain cells fumed and I was nervous.  One check didn’t read correctly; I had to re-do the whole process.  I rushed because I didn’t want the people behind me to be delayed getting to their next appointment, wherever that may have been.   Finally I threw the receipts, credit cards and cash onto the passenger seat and rushed ot the street.  Why was I so concerned about keeping those other people waiting?  Who knows.

When we give ourselves an extra time slot, whether it’s five, ten or thirty minutes, we’re able to breathe instead of hyperventilate when we hit traffic; wait for two red lights instead of one; have someone ahead of us in line who wants to chat and fill out every form possible, even without forms; or catch up with Sarah or Mike and the kids.   I admit I left the Post Office last week because the only other person in the whole Post Office took at least twenty minutes to get her packages repackaged, her stamps placed just so, her insurance form filled out, and her nagging back problems solved by the clerk.  Yikes.  I said, “forget it.”  Now, did I have anywhere special to go?  Did I have a plane to catch?  Did I have someone waiting for me?  Did I have anything to do except go home?  No!  

Anyway, I’m learning.  I just hope that inpatient fumes coming out of peoples ears and nose don’t happen to be ignited because of me.  In turn, I’m hoping that I will just breathe, relax, and take it all in stride the next time in in the “express” line and the person in front of me has 32 items instead of 15.  And you?

Happy Tuesday.


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