Panic. Anxiety. Shame. What do these things look, sound, taste, or feel like to you? Maybe lateness is epitomized by the relentlessly changing numbers on your digital clock. Maybe lateness tastes like a hasty swig of burnt coffee which singes the delicate walls of your throat as it goes down. For me, lateness this morning was a neat outfit suitable for the office, completed by a pair of flip flops. Oops.
Tell me your fantastic new imagery for lateness. And T.G.I.F.