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Now the zip had worked its way undone and her strapless gown was threatening to burst open.‘I was mortified,’ says Claire, 40.‘I made my excuses then dashed back inside the hotel where my auntie managed to zip me up again.Chronic tardiness, they suggest, may actually be a mental illness.Claire was even late for her own wedding day, turning up with her dress gaping open at the back.He explains: ‘CLIPs have a bizarre compulsion to defeat themselves - some deep inner drive to inexplicably miss the beginning of movies, endure psychotic stress running to catch the train, crush their reputation at work etc. I’ve embarrassed myself again and again, and I’ve run cumulative marathons through airport terminals.’Kirstin, 41, a university administrator, who lives in Bradford with her husband, Michael, 50, an engineer and their son, Thomas, eight, says: ‘I’ve recently been diagnosed with mild dyslexia.As much as they hurt others, they hurt themselves more.’Raised by a mother who always arrived late, Tim can’t stop himself repeating the same pattern. One reason why I suspected I might have a problem is that I’m so very bad at timekeeping,’ she says.‘I am always late to collect the children from school.We even arrived 30 minutes late for my daughter’s 18th birthday party dinner.
She’d been running so late for her wedding last month, she’d literally run out of time to fasten her dress properly.
She had to ring the angry restaurant manager and beg him to hold the table.’ US science writer Tim Urban has even coined a term: CLIP (Chronically Late Insane People).
Tim, who suffers from poor timekeeping himself, believes that lateness is so destructive, it’s a mental illness (stock picture)‘I’ve promised to try to change.
Even though Johnathan is driven almost to the brink of despair by her incorrigible tardiness, she still can’t change Sufferers are late so predictably and so spectacularly, wreaking havoc on their own lives and of those around them, it’s almost a form of self-sabotage.
These women arrive everywhere late and in a flurry of excuses.
He’s bought me an old-fashioned diary so I can write down appointments.