My laces are only half-tied, my hair is up in a sloppy ponytail, and my backpack is still unzipped. I run downstairs, jump on my bike, and make my way to the Noorderplantsoen as fast as I can. When I meet my sister, she’s angry, despite the hasty text message I sent her earlier. 

But her anger is justified. I’m twenty minutes late to an appointment only ten cycling minutes away from my house. And it’s not the first time. Every time it happens, I come up with an excuse or joke, but I’m secretly trying to hide my shame. 

Emigrate

A friend of mine put it like this the other day: ‘It’s like you prioritise your own time over mine.’ His words made me think. Did I? 

It’s like you prioritise your own time over mine

Not only am I regularly late to things, but my sleep-wake cycle isn’t ideally suited to Dutch culture, either. I can barely get out of bed in the morning, but at night I have loads of energy. Which means I stay up too late and feel tired again in the morning.

Perhaps I should emigrate to southern Europe. Not only do they not mind people being late, but I’d love to take a siesta every day and a stroll on the beach every night. My idea of heaven!

For now, though, I’m going to find out what’s going on. Why do I have such a complex relationship with time?  

Research

If you’re looking for UG scientists who know about time, you’ll probably end up with chrono-biologist Roelof Hut. He is an expert on people’s biological clock. ‘That’s like an internal clock. It’s located in the hypothalamus in the brain and keeps approximately the same time as our own 24-hour clock.’

But where it goes wrong is if your biological clock runs a little slow, like mine. ‘Think of it like a watch. You can adjust a slow watch every day, but you’ll still be late the rest of the day.’ This becomes especially noticeable at night: the processes that make us tired occur later in the day, which means we go to bed later, too. ‘Except your alarm is set for early in the morning.’ This can lead to a lack of sleep.

That explains why I turn into a Chatty Cathy before going to bed, when all my boyfriend wants to do is sleep. It could also explain why I’m so often late to my morning classes: I set my alarm quite late in an effort to catch up on sleep, not leaving me enough time to get ready.

Slow watch

Unfortunately, I can’t blame my slow internal watch for everything. After all, I’m also always late for tennis practice because I still have to change, fill my water bottle, put on my shoes…

Hut sends me to experimental psychologists Hedderik van Rijn. He studies people’s internal clocks which, he emphasises, are entirely different to their biological clock. ‘The biological clock functions like a watch, while the internal clock is more of a stopwatch’, he says.

The internal clock is more like a stopwatch

The stopwatch allows us to observe time. Take a red light, for example: sometimes it feels like it’s taking forever. That’s because your internal stopwatch has been timing how long you’ve been waiting.

But the speed of this stopwatch can be changed. ‘If you experience arousal, a trigger that activates your central nervous system, your internal clock speeds up’, says Van Rijn. This then makes you feel as though you have less time, causing you to make decisions faster and with less information.

Arousal

I try to link this concept to my issues with time. My greatest pitfall is always the things I still have to do before I leave the house. And then time just flies. When that happens, I get stressed. Does that count as a case of arousal?

Yes and no, says Van Rijn. ‘When we’re stressed, we check our stopwatch a lot. So while your internal clock speeds up, you also keep correcting it, because you’re so focussed on how much time you have left.’

But why am I always late to things? ‘I’m afraid it might be a case of social ineptitude. It’s possible you overestimate how fast you complete certain tasks.’ Bummer.

Maybe, just maybe, what my friend said is true: perhaps I do prioritise my own time over that of others. What can I do to solve that? I try to figure out where I go wrong. Why do I overestimate myself?

Efficiency

To answer that question, I turn to Renée Niessen. She used to work as a clinical molecular geneticist at the UMCG, but she’s been working as a trainer in how to work efficiently for a few years.

Normally I’m the one asking questions during an interview, but this time Niessen is the one grilling me. ‘What are the appointments you’re always late for?’ she asks me. ‘What’s preventing you from getting ready on time?’

I’m afraid it’s a case of social ineptitude

Finally, we’re getting to the core of my issue: I postpone things.

Take tennis practice, for example. I wait until the last moment to change my clothes and fill my water bottle. Then, when something happens – I can’t find my keys, I have to wait in traffic – I’m late.

Eat that frog

There’s more to it, though. When I want to finish an important, but annoying task, I postpone it for so long that I try to finish it at the very last moment. That’s why I don’t get ready until it’s too late, and that’s why I’m always late to practice.

‘I have an important tip for you’, says Niessen. ‘Eat that frog. It’s a book by Brian Tracy. He says you need to look at those annoying tasks as a frog that you have to eat.’ 

I say that eating a frog sounds unpleasant. Niessen nods. ‘That’s why you keep postponing it. Days go by without you eating the frog.’ A voice in your head keeps telling you that the frog is still there. ‘That makes you feel guilty.’

What’s the solution? ‘It’s really very simple. Just eat the frog as quickly as you can.’ If you do that early in the day, like in the morning, the worst part of your day is already over. It’s usually not even that bad, all the other tasks that day feel like more fun, and you get to be proud of yourself. ‘That creates positive energy.’

From now on, I will start my day with the most unpleasant tasks on my schedule. No longer will my sister have to wait for me in the park, and no longer will my friend think I value my own time over his. All I have to do is eat a few frogs.

Dutch