The Last Minute

Among the things I dislike, and there are a lot of things I dislike I want you to know, is waiting to the last minute, or things that come up in the last minute. The last minute always puckers my ass a little. You know what I like to be doing at the last minute? Watching other people who waited until the last minute, smug in my refinement, knowing I am better than they are. Not just better at something, better than them.

This is not my finest quality. But this blog is a window to my greasy black soul, so you get to see all of it. It's my gift to you.

Back to the last minute. I learned late on Tuesday that I needed to be in Evansville, Indiana on Friday at 9:00 am. No sweat, I'll just look into my mind's eye and its commanding knowledge of mid western geography and take a look for Evansville.

Hmmm, not by South Bend, Gary, Ft. Wayne, or even Indy. To the map!

First of all, when you type in Evansville, Indiana, it brings up a dialogue box that asks if your sure. Then another. Then finally it says something to the effect of why go there... there's nothing to see... etc.

Holy cow, it's an eight and a half hour drive. Multiplying that by two in my supercharged and highly tuned brain, that is 17 hours of driving for a two hour appointment.

My highly tuned supercharged brain over-revved a little at that moment. That's a waste. I shall have to do the unthinkable.

I shall fly.

When you wait until the last minute, things get thrown together fast and often with little care about accuracy. Not to mention it is expensive to buy a commuter ticket with 48 hours notice. Something like a thousand bucks.

Now, I have not gone to visit my parents because it would cost me a thousand bucks. And now I'm about to go to Evansville? To the phone! Susan at the office, (Susan who is used to the last minute, who is forced to make great things happen in the last minute, who can stretch time and space to make the last minute a miraculously long period of time), hits a key, some frequent flier miles change hands and voila, tickets were sent to my phone with no money coming out of my pocket.

Susan arranged a nice hotel, equidistant from the site and the airport for my convenience. I was on my own for the car, which better be clean for the $100.00 for one day I am paying. What a rip. If it's a Chevy, I may just walk.

So it all worked out. Why should I be worried about the last minute stuff?

Well, because my layover in Detroit this morning is 37 minutes, which is about how much time it takes me to type the sentence, "I'm sorry sir, your plane left without you." And on the way back, when I really want to be moving, I don't leave until 7 hours after my appointment and have a two hour layover in Detroit.

Flying there will save me time, flying home will cost me time. Ain't that the way? Of course, that's the kind of thing that happens when you wait until the last minute. You pay more, you get less and you have less fun doing it.

Among the many things I dislike, intrepid reader, is the last minute. Right now, it's moved to the top of that very long list.

Tata for now! I'll send a post card from Indiana. It will probably have corn on it.