This is how it always starts. A late bloomer never seems to be on time for anything.

Imagine the horror, thinking that you have ten minutes to spare when you’re already an hour behind.

You had assumed that 9 in the morning is 9 in the morning for you…point blank and period.

However, you are just as dead wrong as you are dead tired and the only ass that was made was of yourself.

However, what I lack in punctuality, I make up for in iron will.

The last time I had such a late start, I made perfect creme brûlée and nailed every order that came my way.

This is no new thing for me.

Late starts and late nights, trying to make something of myself.

Sweating, grunting, groaning and remembering “this is nothing new.”

This is the beginning of the story of your life, this too will be the end.

“He had a rocky start, but finished strong.”

This is nothing new, this is nothing I’m not used to.

Hell, I was even born late; a late bloomer right out of the womb.

But, you know what they say about late bloomers?

They make the best flowers.