When I was hairstylist, I was constantly late to work. Yes, I was one of them. (The late hairstylist is the biggest cliche in the black community. Why oh why, did I put myself in this category?)
I never thought that my being late had anything to do with my professionalism. I did a great job on everyone’s hair, who cared if I was thirty minutes late? My clients did. It wasn’t until I lost a few of my morning clients that I got my act together. I was reeking of unprofessionalism and talked myself into thinking otherwise.
It seems bad habits die hard. My editor is awaiting my latest manuscript. I thought I had this under control! Sure, I can reason to myself that technically I’m not late considering I’m working on spec and not under contract yet. But it’s never a good sign when your editor e-mails you asking for your project.
Well, it’s as good as in the mail, but I still need to get this under control. I want to shed my stigma of always being late and be known as the writer who always hands in her project on deadline, before even.
So why am I always late?
Procrastination?
The good ‘ole, ‘lost track of time’ bit?
I’ll answer in tomorrow’s post.
Hey Katrina,
Being late and being a hairstylist kinda go hand-in-hand, don’t they? Just kidding . . . well, sorta. In the past, whenever I ran into a hairstylist who was late, as in not even in the doggone shop and pulled that sort of thing on a regular basis, I changed stylist. As far as I’m concerned that’s foolishness and immaturity and I don’t have a whole lot of time for either.
But when it comes to writing and creativity, I do think that’s a slightly different ballgame. It’s been my experience that things in the publishing world move at warp speed–from their side of the fence. Folks in the publishing biz routinely break deadlines and with few apologies. But when it comes to us (writers & authors), the expectation is that we have all of our t’s crossed and i’s properly dotted at the appointed hour. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a double-standard and particuarly irritating since the bulk of the creativity is coming from our end.
So, I guess what I’m saying is, cut yourself a break. As long as you’re making your best effort and not sitting around twiddling your thumbs, it’s all good . . . isn’t it? (-:
Hey Lori! I hate looking at movies with the gum-smacking, neck-rolling, eating over your head, and screaming your business across the room hairstylist. Didn’t realize how being late was just as unprofessional. (Well, maybe not as bad as eating fried chicken over your head–which really happened to me by the way. Chicken crumbs and all.)
Thanks for making me feel better about the stress of writing on time. It’s definitely a juggling act!