In this life, being late is often viewed as a bad thing. Let’s face it in a work environment, rocking up fifteen minutes behind schedule and sweating like a beast after running from the train station is unlikely to see your career sky rocket.
But can I please raise a salute to social tardiness.
I applaud my friends who told us they were going to arrive at twelve and then texted to say it will be more like half past one, because now I have time to hoover the living room, nip to Sainsbury’s so I can actually feed them, have a shower (and write this post): Result.
I would also like to extend a debt of gratitude to our mates who came for dinner a few weeks ago and were thirty minutes behind schedule: the exact amount of time required for me to ensure that starter, main course and pudding were all finished and the kitchen didn’t look like a someone had let off a flour bomb in a fruit factory.
I appreciate that I only love my friends being late because I myself am always late, but in this busy world, who has time to be on time?
So, I raise the cup of coffee that I now have time to drink to social lateness and would like to propose the following motion be passed:
Late is so the new on time.