Among my friends, I’m the keeper of the dates.  Long before we could count on Facebook and smartphones to remind us of important calendar events, I was the one with the encyclopedic memory of birthdays, anniversaries and random dates that either no one cared about or that they’d prefer to forget.  “Hey Jerry, did you know it’s the 20^th anniversary of that time you parked your dad’s car in the neighbors’ living room?”  That sort of thing.  

Now I’m afraid I’m losing it.  I woke up on Wednesday morning in horror, realizing I’d forgotten to send a birthday card to my friend, Monica.  Monica is one of the few people I still exchange actual birthday cards with and I do my best to get the across country to her on time.  There’s still something cool about getting a real, honest-to-god birthday card on your birthday, I think.  Sad, since I’ve let Facebook become my default greeting method.  (I wonder how many of my other friends are going to be ticked off after they read this.)

Covered with shame, I sent an apology email, to which Monica replied I’d be OK as long as I got a card to her by next Wednesday.  I thought it was odd that she’d give me exactly a week’s grace period, but I figured she’s the birthday girl, so why not go with her?

Lucky me, I found the perfect Peanuts-themed belated b-day card that spoke existentially about time relativity.  Smart.  Funny.  Just what the occasion required.  Whew!  She’d get it by the weekend and I’d avoid the dog house.

Only today did I bother to check my Facebook birthday reminders and find that Monica’s birthday isn’t until next Wednesday (which explained her email).  Last Wednesday was my friend Sarah’s birthday.  So Monica has an early card that says it’s a late card (depending on how you interpret the time/space continuum), Sarah is getting my second apology email of the week and I have egg on my face.

God, I hope I can find my way home this afternoon.  If I don’t post again in the next few days, somebody please send out a search party.