Something embarrassing happened to me a few weeks ago.
I realized I was wrong.
Being wrong isn’t always embarrassing, but I was so convinced that I’d been right. How certain you are, is proportional to how embarrassed you’ll be, when you find out you’re wrong.
Here’s the situation: I’m a clown. I’m an asshole. I like to say provocative things. I like reactions (or I claim to.)
When I share one of these half-cocked, unpopular opinions, people might think this means I’m attached to them. In actuality, I’m just suspicious of consensus. …
A lot of my coworkers told me “Happy New Year” this year. Everyone looked me right in the eye when they said it, and John from Accounting had the balls to ask why I hadn’t responded to his “Happy New Year” text he wrote specially for me and his 200 other contacts.
I’ve never liked the new year. Strangers telling you their resolutions, followed by thirty days of writing the date wrong — what’s not to hate?
That said, now that January’s over, I remembered one thing I love about the new year — everyone’s forgotten about the last-minute excuses I made for not showing up to work last year! …