Go At Your Own Speed

I am slow.  I mean it.  Everything I do is slow.  I think slow, I act slow, I read slow, I work out slow.  I even burp slow.  I’m just slow and everything I do is slow (except eat food).

I’m like George Costanza.  I always think of the wittiest comebacks…. a day after I get insulted, when I’m alone, cowering in a corner, and the laughter has long stopped.

Sometimes when I’m in a conversation and the guy I’m talking to finishes his sentence, I have to think for a few or ten seconds about what my reply is going to be.  Talk about awkward silences, especially when it’s a phone call.  Sometimes I try not to be slow and I just say the first thing that comes to my mind, you know, just to fill in the silence.  Occasionally, what I say can’t be counted as a sentence.  Just random nouns, verbs, and adjectives in no logical order.

I used to be particularly slow when it came to defending myself.  Let’s say a caller-in didn’t like the price I quoted on his insurance policy and told me that I’m a snake oil salesman.  I would often think nothing about it, only to have it occur to me what he said on the drive home.  I’m like, “Hey, he’s wrong!  I’m NOT a liar!”  For awhile I overcompensated and became hyper defensive.  Sick of being slow and missing things, I jumped the gun and was quick to defend my honor.  Years later I learned how to tone the defense down.  (Thank you, marriage!)

In my school years, I was acutely aware that I was socially slower than my peers.  I used to think “I’m about three years behind every one.”  It later increased to five, seven and a half, and capped out at about ten.  Lately however, I’ve been feeling like I’m making a comeback, like maybe I’ve cut it back down to seven and a half.

This disposition has caused me to be sort of a researcher type: if I can learn everything I need to know and think about it in advance, when I’m put on the spot (usually reserved for quick thinking) I don’t have to try and wing it.  “Actually yes, I do prefer coast live oaks to their deciduous cousins, on account of the shade they provide in the winter, which is really helpful in Southern California.”

I used to question why I’m so slow and could never come up with a definitive answer.  Was I dropped as a child?  Am I autistic?  Does autism even make people slow?  Maybe I over think things.  Maybe I under think them.  OR: maybe I’m not slow.  Maybe I just hang out with people who get it quicker than I do.

Regardless of why I’m slow or not slow, I’ve come to accept my speed and have decided that whatever I lack in it, I’ll make up for in hard work and follow through.  I may not be the quickest out the gate, but if I can refuse to give up, then maybe I’ll still find a way to finish, and on occasion, win.  I’m playing the long game.

In the end, I’m not going to be preoccupied with how fast or slow I am.  I’m 17 years out of the rat race known as school, where all this self-comparison originated.  I’m free to do things the way I want to do them.  I set my own hours.  I can read books at my own pace.  I can write this blog with – so far – 17 revisions on a Saturday afternoon.  I’m a grown man and I don’t have to fit in!  Lesson learned.  If you want things to work out: go at your own speed.