Do you know you're early?

I must have doofus written on my forehead.

Last summer, I wrote the article Knowing When to Quit for the North Texas e-News. It involved my husband, myself, and a rather selfish young woman who insulted us into silence while in line at a grocery. Today, I was twenty minutes early to a hair appointment in Dallas and the receptionist (young, blonde) asked me the above question. Did I know I was early? My stylist was 1) not there and 2) never on time.

And this was my problem?

Leaving home this morning, fog made visibility about 1/4 mile. I made a stop en route and gave myself plenty of time to arrive. Fortunately, the fog was lifting and I arrived early. I was quite content to sit and read, have the cup of coffee she finally offered me.

So, early doofus that I am, I explained to her that I "came with the traffic." I couldn't think of anything pithy to say. It probably would have been wasted anyway.

And here, all along, I'd thought it was the spouse!