I’ve never been very good at keeping a tight schedule. 

My friends might tell me we are leaving for dinner at 6:00 p.m. in hopes that I will be ready to go at 7:00 p.m.

I don’t like to say I am habitually late, as I’m not usually late to classes or important meetings, but I will admit that if I sense any wiggle room in a schedule, I am tempted to set my own standards of time.

I’ve heard everything that has to be said about my habits. It’s because I’m Latina, because I don’t value other people’s time, because I don’t manage my time well, because I’m a girl; all in all, it seems to be my fault for being so darn selfish and not keeping up with the time. 

But it’s really not that. I have a desk calendar, a synchronized agenda on my phone and laptop, a weekly calendar as my screensaver, and a watch I wear all the time. I am well aware of what time it is. 

My excuse is that I am making the choice not to be run by the tick-tock of a watch. 

Sundials, pocket watches, clocks and now our iPhones all constantly remind us of what time it is, bordering on imposition. Our phones and watches not only tell us the time, but where we should be and what we should be doing. 

The internal clocks that once told us how much time had elapsed to save us the embarrassment of keeping eye contact for too long or not recognizing when we’ve missed a turn while driving, have been set to a new, socially constructed standard. 

This new standard dictates just about every part of our lives. It tells us when it is lunchtime and dinnertime, forming us since childhood when we waited on the lunch bell. It tells us when we should avoid a major highway, as 8-5 workers will surely be stuck in traffic. It tells us when it’s time to engage in thoughtful process, during our class times, at work or at a place of worship. It tells us when it is appropriate to unwind. It tells us what time we should wake and sleep, so we don’t miss out on other scheduled rituals. 

While most of these serve a purpose, there are times when strict timelines hinder us from living a life full of casual happiness. 

Casual happiness, for lack of a better phrase, is what I would call the instances of joy that come from small day-to-day occurrences. These are things such as sharing a laugh with a stranger because you are both drenched from the rain, reading an enlightening article, having a quick conversation with an old friend who reminds you of the good ol’ days, hearing that your favorite sport team won a close game or having an impromptu taco at la Rancherita. 

And sure you could do these things on a schedule, but more likely than not, these are things that happen in the time between our structured days, and they would not happen as often if we were always concerned with being on a tight schedule because we were afraid of disappointing someone else.

For example, let’s say that on my way to meet someone for dinner, I drive past a watermelon stand. We made plans for 7:00 p.m., and I really don’t have time to stop to buy a watermelon and be on time. My watch and socially conditioned brain tell me to keep driving. Not having a watermelon will not be the end of the world. But if we start living our lives driving past the watermelon stands, eventually there will be so little filling our lives. 

I’m not making excuses for being late to an important meeting or missing a deadline, because there are things that will ultimately require a set-in-stone time. But if there is room for leniency, for the sake of making choices on the spot, let’s allow one another some wiggle room. 

The much disputed Myers-Briggs personality type indicator places people on a scale of judging and perceiving, with the first being schedule-inclined and the latter favoring spontaneous interactions. 

Regardless of the validity of the Myers-Briggs, I think there is a lot of truth in believing that there are people who prefer to have set plans and others who don’t.

As someone who identifies as a more perceptive type, I truly thrive when allowed the freedom to play with my time. Though I appreciate an agenda on serious subjects, I like to leave most things in the range of “I’ll figure it out as I go along.” 

It’s not that I don’t value your time, it’s that I see the value in the small things around me and recognize that it’s the freedom to choose something unplanned that adds a human touch to our calendar.

We all talk about escaping our daily routines, about escaping the humdrum of everyday life, yet set ourselves to a tunnel-vision path from point A to B, failing to recognize that there may be something in between that could be worth our precious time. 

If you really value your time and mine, let’s vow to allow each other room to pick up a watermelon and not feel insulted.