What Me Worry....

Priorities seem to dictate our everyday happenings, and although we make our plans and
fill our calendars... Murphy's law steps in and throws us a knuckled-curve ball. Most importantly is the stand of character in how you handle these matters.

I schedule tasting appointments with my brides-to-be on a regular basis, and always try to be
as accommodating as possible. In my business, that's all key to landing a good catering. If you show your prospective client that you have all the time in the world to devote to their special day, you are acknowledging your professionalism, and taking a great weight off their already harried shoulders. Most of these tastings are scheduled for saturdays, and we agree on a time to meet. Making sure I am well on time to meet them, I always arrive at least a half hour earlier than planned, and the said brides arrive at least a half hour later than scheduled. Ok, not a problem for me... this allows me to prep work for the next day... or next three days, and that's just putting me ahead of my game.

Growing up, my parents were VERY strict about time.... a minute late could get you grounded, and that stunk, because they stuck to it. If they said a week, they meant a week.... right down to the minute. Well, if that happened on a saturday, it meant you missed baseball, movies, riding your bike to the beach, and every other activity that was going on.... all the way to the following saturday at the appointed time. And, you were banned to your room except for the occasional bathroom trips and family meals (because we ate as a family every night... no matter what). It was well known to the rest of the family who was in trouble, because my Mom had a "doghouse".... and if your "bone" was in the doghouse, you did SOMETHING, and plenty of offenses were about "time". I can't remember how many times I ended up in there, but it didn't matter, the goal was to keep out. Hence, the best lesson in time was seeded at an early age.

When I moved to Atlanta, I learned a whole new lesson in time. There was this thing called "fashionably late".... What ????? Well, I've learned that it means to be somewhere around 15 to 30 minutes late. At first it threw me off, now I've come to accept it. We all live lives filled with appointments and errands, places to go, people to see. Then add in the Atlanta traffic.... and this is indeed a lesson in multi-tasking if ever I saw one.

In our everchanging world, minus of all the hours we need to accomplish all that we do, I sometimes wonder if my Mother and Father would have understood all the changes in etiquette they so painstakingly taught me. I was raised to send thank you notes for gifts, and birthday cards to relatives and friends.... and RSVP meant "respond as soon as possible", and you did.
Today it all seems a lost art along with letters in the mail. We've hit the technology age of just dashing off an e-mail, and dropping a phone call from our cell anywhere and anytime during the day. In order to keep up, you have to play the same game as everybody else. Besides, with everyone having a cell phone pasted to their hips, the etiquette of calling is still alive and well, so we haven't lost everything.

So what to do? My best solution has been to compromise.... not what I was taught, but my ability to just go with the flow, and get worked up about the important things, not the little irritants. The goal is to stay out of the doghouse, after all.... and the surest way to stay out is to
appease to a higher being in myself. It's my "don't sweat the small stuff" button. There will always be moments I won't find the button fast enough to push it, that just naturally comes with everyday life.... but I'm learning, and I know I'm getting better at it. There are just sometimes when I say to myself: what's to worry?, save the important stuff for the tantrums.... and somehow, I seem to save myself from an awful lot of trivial grief. Besides, I'm too old to be grounded anymore.