01 Apr Diagnosed with Wrongtimeitis
I’ve just been diagnosed with Wrogtimeitis.
Before you go scurrying off to WebMD to look that up, I should mention that I diagnosed myself. And I made up the name. Still, it’s a real affliction that I have to deal with, oh, every now and then.
A while back, I was invited to a potluck at my friend Ralph’s place. I eagerly prepared one of my specialties, Japanese Curry, and I made the hour or so drive over to his place. The house was strangely quiet given that it was party time.
I knocked at the door. After a long pause, an older gentleman, whom I don’t think spoke English, answered and gave me a quizzical look.
“Ralph?” I asked, not mistaking him for Ralph, but hoping he can point me in the right direction of my friend.
A minute later, Ralph showed up, also with a quizzical look.
“Hey Ralph, I’m here for the potluck?”
Suddenly, a big grin appeared on his face. This moron had gotten the date wrong (the moron being me).
I paused to soak this revelation in. Then, “I can’t make it tomorrow.”
“Well, at least take the curry to serve tomorrow.”
I handed over the curry and left. It was the longest one hour drive of my life.
Fast-forward to a several months later.
My friend Priya was having a going-away party before a relocation to New York City. It was going to be at a brewpub downtown. A 35 minute or so journey for me.
I show up at the designated time and do a walk-through. No Priya or anybody who looked like a Priya associate. Well, this was a dense area of downtown. And parking isn’t exactly easy to find around here. No problem. I kick back for a couple of minutes.
Hmm… still nothing. Maybe they were in some darkened enclave inside. Time to call her.
“Hi, Priya, I’m outside. Where are you guys?”
“Oh my gosh, Nived, that was yesterday.”
She then launched into a profuse apology, even though it was 100% my fault. Though this was nice of her, it somehow made me feel worse. As if she was saying, “I’m soo sorry I didn’t stress to you that the event was yesterday not today even though my invitation email was written in plain English and literally everyone else comprehended it and showed up yesterday.”
So there went that. But I still wasn’t convinced it was a pathology. Simply carelessness.
Fast-forward to this past Saturday. I won’t bore you with the particulars, as you know the drill by now. However, this time, after finding myself in the empty venue, rather than call the person with a “Where are you guys?” I instead checked my email. Yep, got it totally wrong. Again.
I guess I take comfort in the fact that I’m learning. Not to double-check the time and date, mind you. Rather, I’m learning to deal with my Wrongtimeitis in a way that minimizes embarrassment.
My hope is that by writing this, more people with Wrongtimeitis will come forward. Once there’s more awareness of this condition, I’m confident that more support and resources will follow.
Until then, all I can do is take things one day at a time. Which is a challenge given the apparent inability to keep days straight is the affliction’s only symptom!
Thanks for listening.