My wife says “Plenty of time” is my life philosophy.
Not ambition.
Not responsibility.
Not punctuality.

“Plenty of time.”

For example, she likes to leave for a doctor’s appointment two hours early, even though the doctor is 30 minutes away.

“Traffic,” she says.

This doctor is 30 minutes by local streets and fifteen minutes if we take the parkway. According to her, however, there could be:

• an accident, 
• a parade, 
• a sinkhole, 
• a presidential motorcade. 

“Let’s leave now,” she says nervously.

“Plenty of time,” I reply, while casually looking at the wall clock. 

I am convinced that modern society has developed a dangerous obsession with arriving early. Nobody simply arrives anymore. They “plan ahead.” They “allow extra time.” They “build in a cushion.”

A cushion? We’re going to a doctor, not invading Normandy.

My wife treats every appointment like we’re catching the last helicopter out of Saigon.

One morning, she announced:
“We have to leave in ten minutes.”

I said, “The appointment isn’t until three.”

“Yes, but what if there’s traffic?”

Traffic? At 10:30 in the morning on a Tuesday? The only traffic around here is a confused cat crossing the road. 

Still, she worries.

Meanwhile, I have a gift. I can accurately calculate exactly how late I can leave without technically being late.

It’s a talent.

For instance, if the appointment is at 2 p.m., and the drive takes 30 minutes, I figure:

• leave at 1:28, 
• arrive at 1:59, 
• walk in calmly, 
• and still have one full minute to spare. 

Personally, I think stress arrives 45 minutes early and ramps up while sitting in a waiting room, listening to daytime television at a volume level impossible to hear, to a program no one cares about.

Last week we had dinner reservations at 6 p.m.

At 4:15, she yelled:
“Are you ready yet?”

I said, “For what?”

“The restaurant!”

“We live 12 minutes away!”

“Yes, but parking!” 

They have no parking lot.

Again, with parking. Americans spend half their lives searching for parking spaces and the other half warning each other about parking spaces.

What about the 100-car freight train that might be passing through the railroad crossing at 10 miles an hour?

Naturally, she dragged me out early. We arrived at 5:08.

The place was empty.

In the country, it’s a different story.  Our friend owns Sorella.  It’s a quarter mile from the house. We will meet a friend there at 6.  She wants to leave at 5. We might need the time because 40 geese might be crossing the road.

The truth is, there are two kinds of people in the world:

1. People who leave early. 
2. People who are not obsessed by time. 

I’m kidding, of course.

Sort of.

But I still believe most things work out fine. People panic too much. Relax. Breathe. Stop sprinting through life like the world ends at 4:30.

Because usually, despite traffic, parking, weather, construction, detours, freight trains and geese…

there’s still…

plenty of time.