a sort of greatness to your lateness.

from four weddings. and certainly not true of me.

while i am pathologically late — to work, to movies, to flights, to meetings, etc. — there isn’t an ounce of greatness attached.

my friends have learnt to deal with it (where are you? at the signal!). my employers have spared no opportunity to pull me up for it. and my family lives in hope that it will change. 

i, as usual, have a completely different spin on it. i believe i come to things later in life than most. which is why i haven’t done so many things (from a. writing the great indian novel, to z. settling down) yet.

good explanation? well, i certainly think so.

a sort of greatness to your lateness.

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