The one where I am early for events for the first time in my life and I think I liked it better when I was perpetually late.

Every year, I ask Paul to get me one of those "month-at-a-glance" calendars (with large spaces for each day so I can list each event!). It's very important for me to have this to prevent such embarrassing and time-wasting mishaps as:

- Going to a doctor's appointment 24 hours before it's scheduled.

- Calling the doctor's office to see what time my son's checkup is and finding out that it was 45 minutes ago.

- Showing up for a meeting at my son's school an hour early and having to make strained small talk with the person who runs the meeting until the People With Accurate Calendars arrive.

- Going to a hair appointment on a Monday at noon, only to realize that the place is closed on Mondays. And it has been, oh, since it opened in 1972.

You know, stuff like that. Not that I would know anything about these things.

So, yesterday, in anticipation of my 20th high school reunion, I gave myself a manicure, showered, did my hair (which came out smokin'!), and carefully applied my makeup (also smokin'!). Just before getting dressed, I decided to call my friend to see if she and her husband would like to ride with us to the reunion so Paul and I wouldn't have to walk in alone. (Because, frankly, the fanfare that I'm usually greeted with at these reunions is a bit overwhelming. Men screaming my name, women throwing their panties at me. It's embarrassing really.)

Anyway. I got my friend's voice mail. Hmm. Why wouldn't she be at home an hour before we're supposed to be there? Shouldn't she be getting ready? On a whim, I decided to call her husband's cell phone number (because I don't have her cell number, and her pager number said it was no longer in service...um, Sue?? Are you reading this???).

He answers the phone with a cheerful, "Hello!"

I say, "Why aren't you guys at home?"

Him: "Because we're in Maine." (Note: This is not the state in which they live, nor is it the state in which the reunion is being held.)

Me: "Yeah, right. You're in Maine."

Him: "But we are..."

Me, smirking: "So you're not going to the reunion?"

Him: "That's next Friday, Karen."

Me: "..."

Him: "Karen?"

Me: "NO. SIR."

Him: "Um, yes, it is."

Me: "NO! SIR!"

Him, somehow sensing that this conversation is taking a turn: "Let me put Sue on the line."

Sue: "Hi, Karen?"

Me: "ISN'T THE REUNION TONIGHT??"

Sue: "I don't think so..."

Me: "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T THINK SO?!"

Sue, timidly: "I'm pretty sure it's next Friday..."

Me: "HOW 'SURE' ARE YOU TALKING??"

Sue: "About 99.9 percent sure."

Me: "OH. MY. GOD."

Sue: "Are you...?"

Me: "YES."

Sue: "So, you got all...?"

Me: "YES!"

Sue: "Wow."

Me, cheerfully: "Okay, then, I'll talk to you later!"

Click.

*bangs forehead with phone repeatedly* WHY...are YOU...so DAMN...STUPID???!!!

I pull out my Trusty Calendar, and lo and behold, it says "Reunion" on Saturday, November 18th.

Not only did I get the date wrong, I even got the day of the week wrong. Basically? I couldn't have been more wrong if I tried.

Who wants to place bets on the fact that I will be late to the reunion next Friday? And I will also be having a bad hair day? And I'll have a zit the size of Montezuma? And cramps?