Sergio, el impuntual

It's hardly a secret that I have, let's say, a little problem with punctuality. Yes, that's one way to say it. Another way -and a more exact one at that- would be that I can't be on time to save my life. This little "issue" has haunted me ever since I was in highschool, which was about 6 years ago, when I was only 14 years old. I'm 21 now and today I was late for both my french classes and my job. This may sound funny and even silly to some, but trust me, it's neither.

I'm constantly arriving late to places. I hate writing this sentence because as I see it written on the screen I realize how true it is. Today was yet again another example of my lack of, well, punctuality. See, my french classes start at 9 o'clock. I'm usually there around 9:30 or 9:20 at best. Why? Don't really know. My alarm clock goes off at around seven in the morning. Something quite pointless I might add because I simply get up (while still having my eyes closed) walk in my sleep and turn it off. Don't ask me how I do it, but I manage to sleep-walk all the way to my closet to turn it off. I wake up (this time for real) at about 8:15. If I were more responsible I'd skip breakfast, take a quick shower and leave. But no, I like breakfast too much. I eat and then take a shower. I'm usually ready to go at around 8:55. Little reminder: my classes start at 9:00. So of course I take a taxi, and since traffic is simply unbearable these days, I arrive at the Alianza Francesa some minutes before 9:30.

I seem to be utterly incapable of being on time. When I was in the United States, I worked as a receptionist in a hotel. My schedule from monday to friday was from 7 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon. Needless to say I never made it at 7 o'clock. Oh, and I forgot to mention that I lived in the same hotel I worked at. That's right. It took me less than 2 minutes to get to my workplace because, well, I lived in it. But I still couldn't be on time. Whoever was in charge at the front desk at that time had to call my room numerous times to, well, tell me to wake the hell up. It was quite embarassing really. I'd receive phone calls at 7:20 from whoever worked the previous shift. This person was usually mortified, and understandably so.

Even worse than that was what happened to me when I was studying in the university. For lack of a more, let's say, convenient schedule, I was practically forced to register at a 7am course. I studied in the University of Lima and as everyone knows, it doesn't come cheap to study there. I knew all of that and I was determined to make it on time. I couldn't. I simply couldn't, and as a result, I ended up failing the course. Ridiculous, isn't it? To fail a course not because you don't have the grades to pass, but simply because you didn't attend for over half the cycle.

At my job, well, let me put it this way. Everyone, I repeat, every single one of the supervisors and the people from the administration office have called me up on my tardiness. There has been some improvement, but I somehow always end up being late again. Despite what people may think I take my job seriously and the fact that I get to my classes late does affect my reputation as a teacher, and that's what I hate the most.

I don't know. As I'm wrapping this up, I'm more than convinced that I have a serious problem and that If I don't fix it, there will be serious repercussions. There already have been. All I know is that right now I'm losing the race against time. But what I know as well is that it is never too late to change and that the human mind is incredibly powerful. If I set my mind and my heart to it, I'm sure I could do it. I have to do it, for my own sake.