I suppose one of the worst things about being me is my sense of time, order and responsibility. Let's start with time.
In the 40+ years I've been paid--between summer jobs making change in a game room on the boardwalk at Playland to my myriad jobs in advertising, I can count on one hand the number of times I've come in late.
I just can't do it.
Even this morning when I was dealing with some sundry interpersonal mishigoss and the swirl that so often accompanies my spouse, I was terribly nervous about being late. I have a lot to do and I was worried that I would get scowls as I hustled in at 9:06.
Well, 9:06 came and went, and now, 20 minutes later and no one I need is even in yet.
Order is of the same order, solipsistically speaking.
I tend to knock items off my to do list the way the Germans rolled over eastern Europe. I get stuff to do and I do it.
Dilly-dallying is not a part of my modus operandi.
Finally, there's responsibility.
I like to say that I'd run through hell in a gasoline suit to get my work done, to do what's right for the job or assignment.
You can psychoanalyze me if you'd like and criticize me.
I know I should lighten up and take things a little easier on myself.
That's all well and good.
But it's not the way I am.
There are a lot of people in the business--it seems like a full one-third of my Facebook friends--who are in Cannes right now. Mainly it seems like they're there to post pictures saying they're there.
These guys and gals are the advertising winners--a club of which I am no longer a member.
For whatever reason, they are perceived as cool and cutting edged.
There's nothing cool about getting in on time, doing your work, and going home having done a job well.
There's no festival celebrating that.