UN DÍA
There’s a general understanding that those who do for others rarely do for themselves. Usually it’s because they’re exhausted ‘doing the doing’ for others and its just easier to handle the same tasks for oneself ‘mañana’.
Professional cooks rarely want to cook 5-course meals for themselves on a Wednesday night. Professional hair dressers rarely want to do a color, cut & style on a Monday afternoon in their own bathrooms. Professional money managers (like myself) rarely want to pay personal bills or set up personal budgets. We’re tired. We just want to rest when the day is done. We’ll get to it…’mañana’.
“Mañana… what a strange word. It literally means ‘tomorrow’ in Spanish but I have learned that it means ‘some other day you’ll find out about later…or not’. ”
To make matters slightly worse, being a native Southern Cali girl, I inherently have a rather laid-back attitude about a lot of things. While it is an exaggerated stereotype that all SoCalians are floating along in a haze of slow-motion movement, as a whole – and especially the natives – we don’t get too worked up about too much. Until we do, of course. We’re warm and we have In & Out. We’ve got two HUGE things going for us.
Mañana… what a strange word. It literally means ‘tomorrow’ in Spanish but, now having lived in Mexico for 16 months, I have learned that mañana never means that. It means ‘some other day you’ll find out about later…or not’.
If you’re picking up what I’m laying down, it is reasonable, under these circumstances (and with my aforementioned handicaps..lol!), to suppose that when you get a utility bill in Mexico, there is a Mañana Clause written in tiny Spanish print somewhere around that ‘Due By’ date. I have assumed as much and have found myself repeatedly on the wrong side of Mexico’s utility payment collection policies time and again.
WiFi…late a week – OFF! Go to the main office, pay, and MAYBE you’ll get it back on the same day.
Electricity…late 3 days – OFF! Go to the main office, pay, then go to church and pray that it’s turned back on within two weeks.
Water…late ONE DAY – no more convenience of paying inside convenient Oxxo! Go to the main office in the barrio that, of course, closed 45 minutes ago.
WTH??! Whyyy were they so stringent in this area and so lax everywhere else? And before you ask, NOOOOOO you can’t just pay it online 😅
As I made my way back to mi casa today after being on the wrong end of my current water bill due date, I couldn’t stop saying it. “One day. ONE day. UN DÍA!!” I knew I should have handled it yesterday but I was busy. I got caught up doing other REALLY important stuff. I’d do it mañana. But now mañana was here and it was too late. Now I had to rework my next-day schedule, try not to worry that my water might be off in the middle of the night, and… Aaahh!! All over UN DÍA?!?
I was not-so-silently fuming at no one but myself. I’d been here before and felt the cold, dark or dryness of having pushed the ‘grace period’ mentality only to find there was no grace period. I knew better but I insisted and no one was really affected by that recurring obstinance but me. I was furious – at the injustice but mostly just at myself. And then a memory hit me.
I remembered another time when one day made all the difference in the world and utterly changed the trajectory of my life forever.
“...I was a lead favorite in the final round of auditions for Arthur Mitchell’s Dance Theater of Harlem that year.”
I was 15 and already 5’10” with legs up to there. I was graced with a natural dancer’s body and artist’s soul through no agency save being the daughter of a 6’4” professional American-football-playing father and a 5’8” tear-down-the-house sangin’ mother. And I was a lead favorite in the final round of auditions for Arthur Mitchell’s Dance Theater of Harlem that year. (I promise I’m not making this up lol!)
It was the next to last day of a grueling week-long audition schedule and there were only a few of us left to dance the program the following day for final consideration. Each evening, the next-day schedule would be sent out and each group would show up to dance at their appointed time. It had run like clockwork all week. So smooth that neither I nor my mother thought to double-check the schedule for the last day before we left that afternoon.
We’d be there the next day at the time on the sheet like we had every other day. We’d be conscientious and get there 30 minutes early as usual to claim my spot. I would travel and relocate to New York to, hopefully, train to be a professional dancer under some of the greatest instructors in the world. I was standing at the threshold of a dream-come-true moment. The next day – ONE DAY – would change everything. I couldn’t wait.
But that day, that one day, someone changed the schedule and moved my group to an earlier slot. No one called about it. Everyone was responsible with keeping up with the fast-paced movements of the audition cycle for themselves. My mother and I showed up at the ‘right’ time only to discover that the DTofH had auditioned, chosen and closed my group four hours earlier. It was over. There was no do-over. There was no appeal.
“I just COULD NOT wrap my mind around how something SO small...could have such devastating effects...”
The finality of that moment and the bitter tears I cried for many weeks afterward were severe punishers. I obsessed about what had happened incessantly. I just COULD NOT wrap my mind around how something SO small and SO insignificant as a slightly altered schedule could have such devastating effects. It boggled my mind for years and years before fading into the past – gone but not fully forgotten – and the echo of that feeling traveled through time and met me once more today.
Paying attention to the things that need paying attention to WHEN they need to be paid attention to is critical. Sloppy attention to detail is sloppy attention to detail and, while a slightly tardy water bill isn’t going to alter my future forever, though highly unlikely, it bears noting that it could.
The truth is I don’t know what’s on the other side of this foreign entity’s policies just like I didn’t know what the ramifications would be for heading out before confirming something critical like a final audition schedule. The details are different, but the lesson is the same. Handle. Your. Business.
Feel that knife? it’s cutting both ways. Trust me.
So yeah… no use crying over spilt milk. Literally, ALL things work together for the good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose and I have zero regrets at the path my life has taken. That other life was for another girl and I ain’t her. But I did learn some things that I’ve carried into this life and now I have this story to tell YOU.
~ Dot your I’s and cross your T’s. No one is responsible for you but YOU ~
~ Double and triple check. And then check again. The devil is in the details ~
~ Be careful of shortcuts. Some are good and some will..well..cut you short ~
~ Kill your Mañana Clause mentality. Handle your business and do it TODAY ~
OK that’s all for now. I gotta go dress this wound…lol!
Later…I mean AHORRA!!
PEACE ✌️
Oxxo: 7-Eleven’s and Circle K’s *primo* south of the border