It’s hard for me to love other people. It’s even harder for me to love myself.
I was driving home from work Monday evening and I had just angrily hung up the phone. A woman had called me from a company that did some work at my house a few years ago. I didn’t like the way the company was handling its business with me, but it was nothing personal with the woman.
The thing that annoyed me wasn’t her fault. She was just reading a script. She was doing her job. But I was in a bad mood — and I took out my frustrations on her.
I wasn’t nasty or rude, but I certainly wasn’t kind or loving.
As I drove the rest of the way down I-459 toward home, I stewed in my irritation, but my annoyance quickly turned toward myself. I wasn’t upset with that woman or her company.
I lectured myself about being a hypocrite. I berated myself about my unwillingness to live up to my values when it wasn’t convenient — when I wasn’t in the right mood.

If you need vacation from spouse, maybe you married wrong person
Why did I really feel annoyed? They were happy; I was jealous
We’re happier if we learn to ‘sell’ ourselves to people who want us
I support MLK’s original goals, but not what his birthday represents
Not happy with your life? Change your narrative, change your life
Appeals to ‘common sense’ are frequently excuses to avoid thinking
‘The moment we begin to seek love, love begins to seek us and save us’
Republicans edge closer to inevitable choice of Romney to face Obama