Slow, slower, slowest

I really don't know who made up the notion that life in the south is somehow slower than the rest of the world, but he was obviously out of his mind. Yes, it's a he. There is no way any southern woman in her right mind would ever have the time to sit down and come up with something as ludicrous as that. Between all her cooking, peeling, baking, quilting, crocheting, reading the bible, killing flies and other unwanted bugs, raising the kids, skinning the dead animals and gutting the fish that her husband brings home, southern women barely had time to walk to the outhouse, let alone wax lyrical about the south. They were too busy being the south.

Anyway, quite obviously the point I'm trying to make here is that life in the south is anything but slow. In fact, I would go as far as to claim that my life has never been crazier since I moved down here. I know, not all southerners drive 90 miles to get to work, and the point could be made that I'm the exception. But in all honesty, I doubt that. In my time here, I haven't seen a whole lot of front-porch-rocking-sweet-tea-drinking-breeze-shooting. All I see are people doing yard work, driving their kids to and from cheerleading, football, gymnastics, aquaknots, French club, Spanish club, band, taking online classes, getting home from work late, and baking meals for sick people. Southerners make talk slowly, but their life is anything but.

And you know how some people will tell you that southerners are known for their tardiness? Or that they're always forgetting things and never seem in a rush to get anywhere? Well, I've figured that one out too. And it's not what you think.

You see, all of that is because they're all just busy. It's not that they don't care. Or can't bring themselves to stick to basic etiquette like punctuality and proper pronunciation. Take myself, for instance. I am, or used to be anyway, the human embodiment of punctuality. I abhor being late for anything. I hate it when other people are late. I give students zeroes when they're late, as well as the stink-eye. But lately, it seems as though I've been late for just about everything; from class, to appointments, to meeting for coffee with friends. It's what happens when you have fourteen hours of work to squeeze into an eight hour workday. There is just nothing like running into a class at three minutes after, to find the entire class staring at you reproachfully to make you feel incredibly on-top of things. And when you're constantly running from one event to the next, you end up forgetting things. Like graded papers, or assignment sheets, or your books. Or stopping at a gas station to get gas. Or putting on your hose while getting ready to leave the house in the morning. It's a whole new level of insanity. And then when you finally don't have anywhere to be five minutes ago, you know you better cherish that moment. So you will take your time making up your mind at the vending machine. Or in line at the convenience store. Because you know that the moment you're done, life will hit you in the behind at full speed once again.

Even the way southerners drawl their words can be attributed to their busy lives. Seriously, ask your significant other to wake you up in the middle of the night, and ask you to say something. Chances are you will sound like someone out of King of the Hill or Designing Women. You know how a lot of non-native speakers get a thicker accent when they're tired? Well, not me. Recently, every single two-legged member of my household has poked fun at me for alternately saying "ground", "there", and "right" in what can only be described as a very southern country-bumpkin way.

So, all this nonsense about southerners being slow needs to stop. Really. 'Cause we're not