'punctuality' is not in the dictionary

i'm sitting at coffee bean, writting down the lyrics to 'according to you', eventhough i already have a printed copy at home. i need to do something to keep my mind occupied; the dumb moronic kindle chose an inopportune time to die on me. my pen hang in midair, i look up in frustration and i feel like shouting at the top of my lungs. i'm so sick of mediocrity. it's the story of our lives, of our generations. i'm sitting there, 24 minutes into the appointed time. i can't remember the last time someone was ever on time, or god forbid, early! nobody strives to be punctual anymore; that word should be struck off the dictionary.

i don't dislike the person, just the attitude. i seem to be forever waiting, be it relating to professional or leisure. yesterday i was late for an appointment myself, something that happens in a blue moon and not as a matter of habitual regularity, being held up by unexpected parking problems but even then, i was still facing an empty chair and equally empty air when i manage to reach the venue. knowing that they will be late, for they have never been on time, i was deliberately laggard myself, but apparently many people have gprs tracking devices implanted into me so that they are able to be fashionably later than me. why is late even fashionable in the first place? i have no freaking idea.

it's a lack of respect, i opined. maybe a presumption that other people have nothing better to do than wait around for you, that a few minutes wouldn't hurt. a few minutes turn into ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour. categorically, a lack of consideration. it's always the same story, i was busy or caught up in something else, that most times the excuse is not even said anymore. yes, i'm late, so? seems to be hovering in the air. i'm busy too, yet i'm sitting here, for a good half of an hour, waiting for you to show up.

strangest thing is irritated as i am with the attitude, the lackadaisical disposition, i am not angry at the propreitor of such demeanor. how i manage to separate the flesh from the seed boggles me but perhaps they are all friends of mine, dear and near. friends for a very long time. so, that's why i am still here, sitting, waiting. even after the millionth times.