Fashion Blogs

Tick tock, tap, tap, sigh, sigh. The routine carries on. I am in the little corner of Denny’s cafe waiting. My tasteless hot chocolate has long turned cold. That was my fourth cup. I look again at my watch. I am waiting for a client. Will she ever arrive? I have called her at least fourteen times. 3 hours ago, she said breathlessly “I will be there very soon.” She had woken up only to realise she was hours behind schedule. She is now scrambling for the shower.

Seriously, many customers have come and gone. The waiteress has circled my table about 20-30 times. I think she is tempted to ask me to leave. I look at her now, I know she wouldn’t say it without loaded tartness. I wait patiently for her anger to push her to say something she would regret. Yes, I am in that mood to make a nasty complaint that may keep her out of work for a long time. Wait. No, I think better of it. Maybe, like me, she is tired of waiting.

I am usually more patient but right now, I am so edgy. Why? Because I am not supposed to be drinking hot chocolate. Yes, I recently discovered that I am one of those unlucky individuals who become lactose intolerant – one of the woes of getting older I guess. I can feel trouble literally brewing in my bowels. I am regretting my thirst. I am silently uttering a prayer.

What if I desperately needed the toilet while with the client? I can just picture myself scrambling for the toilet while making excuses. I chuckle slightly to myself. The waitress is eyeing me again. So is her massive mole. She must now consider me a psycho. Anyway, I have decided that she isn’t worth my thought.

My mind reverts back to the client and why she called me. Just like everyone that hires me, She wants a neat and professional job. Ironically, she wants it done on time. To me, she does not take time seriously. If she did, she maybe wouldn’t spend extra 2 hours in bed. 2 hours. That is a long time. Imagine being on your deathbed, surrounded by loved ones. You look at their grief-stricken faces. You look and wish you hadn’t spent all those extra hours in bed sleeping. You wish you had spend just an extra hour with them at the annual family reunion instead of running off when your father breaks into his infamous rendition of Auld Lang Syne. You look and wish, that death would wait. Maybe just another 2 hours. But it wouldn’t. Just like my dad says, unfortunately, time cannot be tied with a rope.

My phone is ringing. She is here. I guess my wait is over. It is time to work. It is my true and personal believe, that we never grab the concept and importance of time, until we are truly running out of it. I admonish you to befriend time. Then you can live a fulfilled life.

Yours timely,
Carita