Like most people, I am far more haunted by my failures than I am buoyed by my triumphs. The last month of the year is particularly hard for me in this respect — I usually spend the month of December in a sticky spiral of "what-ifs" and "I didn'ts," briefly blasted out by the light of holiday celebrations and culminating in a dark slide into a a hedonistic New Year's Eve. I wake up on January 1, my body and brain battered, and feel hopeful once more. But …