Last week, my cousin asked me if I was going to attend my nephew's wedding on Saturday. "No," I said. "I have to work all weekend." Another woman who was standing nearby was incredulous.

"You're working instead of going to a wedding?" she said.

"His own nephew's wedding!" my cousin said.

The truth is, I didn't even know about my nephew's wedding that Saturday. Oh, sure, I got an invitation in the mail a month or so beforehand, which I put on an table somewhere intending to RSVP. But of course I never did. I forgot all about it, and when the day came, I hadn't taken it off or bought a present, or anything even close to that.

I felt bad. Then I remembered that I'd never attended any of my nephews' or nieces' weddings. I'm not sure whether that made me feel better or worse. But it made me understand myself a little bit better.

I can't believe that there are people so together that when they receive a wedding invitation, they actually RSVP, then go out and purchase a present, get dressed up, and attend the wedding. With a guest! Chances are, they don't even get drunk at the reception and knock over the ice sculpture either. These people are like aliens to me.

It's not that I don't care. I do care. When someone gets married, I wish them the best of luck, and would happily do so in person if only I could remember it was happening. The thing is, I'm 35 years old now, and my mind has been operating in this way for a long, long time. If you're getting married, I would like to receive an invitation, but I can't promise to attend or even to RSVP. I may attend. You never know.

Here are some other issues I'd like to get out in the open, as long as I'm on the topic.

» Unless you're on Facebook, I don't know when your birthday is.
It pains me to say this, but I have no idea when any of my siblings were born. I know the approximate season, and maybe the month, but that's as close as I can come. I know my dad's birthday, but only because it's September 11. (I honestly even forgot that every year from 2002-2005, somehow.)

» If your utility company doesn't have an online bill pay option, or better yet an auto-pay, don't expect me to pay you until you shut something off.
Seriously, though, this isn't my fault. It's two thousand goddamn eight. Do you actually expect me to write a check, put it in an envelope, go to the Post Office to buy a stamp, and mail your money to you? How cute. Yes, I realize that I work at the Post Office, and don't think the irony is lost on me. And don't think I don't have to stand in line for an hour like everyone else. Off the clock.

I don't want to be this way, necessarily. But more and more, I'm realizing that this is how I am. Please don't hate me, and also, I beg you, please don't reciprocate.