Saturday, February 26, 2011
Rebel Friday Fail
I carpool with a friend of mine. She's very funny, and you just never know what to expect when you ride with her. A cup full of tiny shovels from Orange Leaf? Got it! A restroom stop at a fireworks warehouse? Done it! Listened to a lot of Glee songs? Yep.
She is a lot of fun, and since we have to leave at the butt-crack of dawn for our long commute, it makes those early mornings a lot more bearable.
This past week, we had to stay at school late for a night event. After we left, I suggested that we could go to work later in the morning so we could sleep in a little bit late. If we made it to work on time, and liked it, we could do this weekly and call it "Rebel Friday." I even declared that I was not going to wear an official school shirt (as is a requirement on Fridays in my school).
I didn't think it through, though. You see, I'm not a rebel. Not by a long shot. I am neurotic. If I'm on time to an event, I feel like I am late. I have to be early to things. So, by getting to work at the exact time I am supposed to be there, I feel like a failure.
We left, marveling at how weird it was to leave when it was light outside, and how there was quite a bit more traffic than normal. We were perky and well rested.
Thirty minutes later, I was feeling very anxious. I kept watching the clock. I kept accelerating more and more. Finally, I admitted to my friend that I was feeling stressed about leaving so late. She admitted that she was feeling the same way, and couldn't stop watching the clock.
85 MPH later, I was praying that I wouldn't get caught by a cop. We made it to work in excellent time, and all was well. But the fun was sucked right out of "Rebel Friday." This is why I never did any majorly rebellious behaviors as a teen - I just couldn't do it! I couldn't handle it!
I'm going to rename it "Fuddy Duddy Friday."