Camp started this week, which means we’re on an entirely new schedule. I loathe new schedules. I never know when to leave the house—it’s a calculation I can’t get right.

I’ve arrived over an hour and a half early to my gynecologist’s office. To be fair, it’s a schlep, and I overestimate traffic. But it’s not just medical appointments—at school pickup, I’m regularly there 20 minutes before the other parents, practically licking the window in anticipation.

Once, outside a potential employer’s office, I loitered for over an hour before my interview. Unbeknownst to me, there were security cameras. I’d ditched my Starbucks cup in the hall because 21-year-old me thought coffee was gauche and littering was better. They brought the cup into the interview and said, “We saw you left this.” I evaporated into a fine mist of shame. I got the job, though.

Which brings me to camp.

Camp starts at 9:15, and the bus picks up between 8:45 and 8:51 a.m. That “window” is already the kicker, because if something can be early, in my mind it will be early. And whenever there’s even the potential of an early arrival, I add 45 minutes to my calculations.

Plus, I’m walking with my almost-five-year-old son, who is delayed by the sight of an ant, a ledge he can stand on, a gust of wind, or a street sign. So I tack on another 15 minutes to be safe. This means we leave for the bus stop a full hour early, even though it’s a five-minute walk from our house.

I’ve tried—really tried—to engineer delays. I’ve created an entire catalog of activities meant to make us late. And yet, last summer, we were still the first ones at the stop. Every. Single. Day.

So to give myself a break this summer, I’m having our fun weekend babysitter take him instead. She’s so cool, she’ll know how to be late. I’ll be the first parent there to pick him up, though.

Nothing says 'too early' like staging a photo shoot while waiting for a camp bus that isn’t even close to arriving. If you’re a late person, teach me your ways.

My sis says this should be a two-parter, the second part being how those around me are personally impacted by my prompt nature. Spoiler: I have seen everyone I know setting-up for a party or getting ready.

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