late

There’s something about me none of you know, a problem I can’t seem to overcome. I’m late. To everything. Okay, well maybe not everything all the time, but it happens 90% of the time. I even bought a Cinderella t-shirt of her running away from the ball which reads, “Don’t be late” for a caption as an inside joke with myself because I usually am anyway. I know, I know. It’s nothing drastic, but as I was driving to work this morning – late, again – I found myself asking myself why this ...

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