I’ll do it Later

You know when you meet someone and then forget their name? What happens if you don’t immediately admit you forgot it? It get’s harder to ask. Every time you see them and you don’t ask, the next time is even harder. It’s acceptable at first, though it may cost a little embarrassment. But you think, “Ah, I’ll do it later."

Later is even more awkward, and you may fear offending them. “I should have asked them for a reminder ealier,” you tell yourself, “Now it’s rude. Maybe later will be better. Yeah, I’ll do it later.” Later won’t be better; it never is. But you believe the lie.

Eventually, it feels downright disrespectful (and asking seems impossible). “Surely they’ll think I’m self-centered because I can’t remember other people’s names, I’m too insecure to admit a mistake, or both,” you say to yourself. “Maybe I’ll figure out a way to do it later.” But you don’t, and you hope you’ll catch their name in another way. A name tag. Someone else’s introduction to them. An email signature. A mutual colleague.

“I’ll do it later” has within it a subtle promise that later is going to be easier, more convenient, simpler. It isn’t. It’s a lie. Later is always harder—in admitting you forgot someone’s name, and in almost every other aspect of life.

There’s a place for patience.
But the promise of procrastination is a lie.