Please Excuse My Tardiness…

By Liat

This post is part of our Non Sequitur Fridays series, which will feature a different Wistia team member’s take on a non-Wistia-related topic each week. It’s like our “employee of the month” but less “of the month”-y. Liat Werber is a designer at Wistia. Her last post was about the perfect analogy.

Dear Early-Riser,

Please excuse my tardiness to our 10 AM meeting. I know you were up at the crack of dawn, lifting weights, drinking protein shakes, and whatever else one does before the ungodly hour of 7 AM. But I’d like to take a moment out of your extended morning to account for my tardiness, to express the plight of the late-sleeper, and to explain all of the very legitimate reasons that it’s 9 o’clock and I am still searching for my other shoe.

You see, it was all because I woke up before my alarm. This threw my morning into complete disarray because when my alarm finally did go off, I had wasted ten minutes of necessary sleep-time waiting for that to happen. So I took a quick, well-deserved snooze. Of course, I had to hit the snooze button twice because, as we all know, the default snooze is only seven minutes, which didn’t make up for the full ten minutes lost. So that put me at 8:14. I rolled out of bed and brushed my teeth briefly but masterfully, with quick, short strokes. This left me with some extra time to collapse back onto my bed for a moment and lazily click, while my computer warmed my stomach.

A GIF of Mrs. Doubtfire dance-vacuuming the floor sailed onto my screen and brought back a fuzzy memory of < strong class=’StrictlyAutoTagBold’>Alex Kornetsky quoting a line from the movie in carpool. I couldn’t remember the exact words, just the sing-songy voice he used to say it in… something like “doo the shaka lady.” Of course, that couldn’t be right. This called for a new tab, and a quick Googling of “Mrs. Doubtfire vacuum” revealed that the line was “dude looks like a lady.” All of a sudden, it was 8:45.

There was no time to fiddle around with composing an outfit at this point, so I pulled on my jeans, still crumpled up on the floor from yesterday, and my most reliable Wistia shirt. Then, I moved on to my sock drawer to begin the undertaking of mining for socks.

This may sound like an innocuous task, but my sock drawer is cavernous and chaotic, and to find two that match-ish and don’t have holes is more difficult than you would think. I should ball them together with their mates, like an upstanding citizen, but after being apart for so long, I’m afraid they’ve grown up in different directions and don’t have exact matches anymore. I would be better off just throwing them all out and starting again. I found two with the same Adidas symbol at the top, just different colors. Mazel tov! Perhaps not a traditional match, but who am I to judge?

So here I stand at 9:00 AM, albeit lopsided, in one sneaker, surveying the room for the other. It can’t have gone too far from this one. There it is — under the bed! I spend about a minute trying to make the the shoelaces more evenly distributed so that one of the loops doesn’t drag on the ground, before relenting and double-knotting. Another minute is spent putting my hair up and then taking it down. Leaving me with just a few more seconds to check an urgent email confirming that Meryl is “in” for bowling next week. I shut my computer. Stick it in my bag. And I have one foot out the door, when I realize that my wallet and keys are not in the front pocket. Ooph, I forgot to transfer them from purse to backpack last night. If only I were male or marsupial, I would have proper pockets and this would never be a problem. I locate the purse, make the transfer, and at 9:15 I am back on my way.

Not too bad. Barring any train drama, I will arrive a few minutes before my 10 o’clock meeting, with just enough time to grab a banana, a coffee, and some quick kitchen banter. Okay, I may be a little late to the meeting, but only because my neighbor might come out of his house at the exact same time as me and we might make polite conversation about our socially awkward landlord. But this will take five minutes, tops. And 10:05 is a nicer time for a meeting anyway. Although, 10:10 has a nice echo to it. And how can we disregard the lovely flexibility of good ‘ol 10:15?

In any case, you should feel free to start without me!

Yours truly,
< strong class=’StrictlyAutoTagBold’>Perfectly Forgivable Snoozer

: Please Excuse My Tardiness…