I missed an appointment this morning. That’s rare for me. I thought it was at 9 a.m., but it was actually scheduled for 8. At 8:15, I got the call -and that sinking feeling immediately followed. Embarrassment, mostly. I don’t like being late. I don’t like being waited on any more than I like waiting on someone else. An appointment, to me, is a kind of contract – an agreement made in advance that says: I’ll be there when I said I would. You can count on it.

Being punctual isn’t about rules or social pressure for me; it’s about thoughtfulness. It’s a signal that I value the other person’s time as much as I value my own. So when I slip, it feels personal. Not just a logistical failure, but a failure of attention -of care.

But the truth is, I’ve always had a complicated relationship with appointments. I dislike them. Not because I dislike people or conversations, but because appointments occupy a peculiar kind of mental space. They take up more than just the time they’re scheduled for.

An early appointment throws off my morning routine, which is when I do my best thinking, reading, and writing. A late appointment casts a long shadow over the entire day -hanging over me like an anvil, a countdown clock that refuses to be ignored. Even if the appointment itself is brief, its presence makes it hard for me to be fully immersed in anything else.

I’m someone who needs long, uninterrupted stretches of time. That’s not a preference—it’s how my mind works best. I need space to wander through ideas, follow curiosity down rabbit holes, read slowly, and sit with thoughts before turning them into words. When I know I have to be somewhere else at a specific time, it divides my day into before and after, carving it up into pieces. I lose the sense of being fully in the moment.

This morning was a rare mistake. But it reminded me of why appointments have always felt like such a weight. Even when they go as planned, they shape the flow of my day in outsized ways. Still, I’ll keep making them—and showing up on time—because that’s part of the agreement. I just need to be more deliberate in how I make them, and maybe more forgiving when I stumble.

And maybe—just maybe—I’ll keep a little more space between them, so the rest of my mind can keep breathing.