I always end the year by writing about my accomplishments, failure, regrets and resolutions. Today’s post is about failure.
My biggest failure in 2014 was forgetting about Lance Haun‘s birthday.
You say — that doesn’t sound too bad.
I say — Are you joking? Lance is one of my dearest friends. He is beyond loyal to me. I have a picture of us on my desk. He and his wife fold me into their world. And he is the kind of guy who doesn’t celebrate his birthday, but he never forgets mine.
It’s a good thing he never forgets my birthday, too, because I have ended friendships with people who forget my birthday. There is one day that I want to hear from you, and it’s the day I was born. Dammit.
So, yeah, I suck. It’s awful that I forgot his birthday. It’s the pinnacle of selfishness. It’s the exact opposite of my values. You know what I was doing on his birthday? I was on the road, thinking about my upcoming marathon and being a narcissist. I was wholly immersed in my neurosis. Boom. Forgot his birthday. Just like that.
You know when I remembered? Ten days later, while on my way to Australia. I spent 16 hours between LAX and SYD feeling terrible.
(Or, as Lance would say, turrible.)
I apologized, of course, and I have been trying to make amends with some people who were previously dead to me for forgetting my birthday.
Turns out that’s not so easy. It sucks to eat crow. Maybe forgetting a birthday isn’t the worst crime against humanity, eh?
But forgetting the day that Lance was born? My worst failure in 2014.