Everyone is late. Why? Why must everyone be late? And so often? And with no warning? Why does no one care that you - not unlike them - have other things to do?

I mean to take up this matter of our constant disregard for other people's time. It causes me distress and it often causes me to miss lunch.

In a better world - say, a world in which people believed that a schedule was sacrosanct and a watch was a holy instrument - in such a world, my situation would be the exception. In such a world, I would be ranting about this extraordinary problem I have with time and it would be news to those listening.

I do not live in that world. My mechanic is late. My doctor is late. The person who has to check my washing machine may make it today or tomorrow, somewhere between one and five in the afternoon.

No time is too vague or too flexible. I'm on their time, even if it's on my ten cents. (No, it really doesn't have the same ring as 'on my dime,' does it?)

And it's not just me. I know it happens to you too.

I have a tense relationship with time. The cultural norm of Trini-tardiness was not properly instilled in me as a child, but I'm getting better with age. Why, just last week I left home 15 minutes later than planned (but, tragically, still arrived at my destination on time).

I'm fairly certain that with careful balancing of things-to-do and things-I-don't-want-to-do, I'll eventually achieve proper lateness.

People who are not me also have a difficult time with time. We need to call it out and we need to say what it is: we feel our time is not valued. And that stretches into something that means we do not feel valued.

That's a bad thing and it gets worse. All our waiting, all the things that get kicked down the line because one thing was late, all these wasted hours - they add up to something other than inconvenient delays: they add up to stress, anger, frustration and even anxiety.

While common, even expected, this is a problem we need to stop ignoring. In fact, forget ignoring, we need to stop facilitating it. We keep accepting and making excuses. We sigh, we grumble and we go on. And we almost never say that it's unacceptable.

If you don't think that any real harm is done, think of the person who has called the police because they think there's a prowler around and they're scared. Think of someone who has been alone (maybe they're in quarantine) and is finally cleared for a visit.

And if you want to know what shredded nerves look like, think of anxiety patients waiting at a doctor's office for hours.

All these situations are far too real and make us feel far too helpless. But we don't call it out, do we?

I know I don't, not nearly as much as I should. If I've been made to wait a long time for something important, I'm usually shaking and tongue-tied by the time they get to me.

You know who likes to talk about respect for time? Businesspeople. Perhaps it is because the cost of their time is, in many ways, easy