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.

UPDATE: After surgery, maybe I’ll eventually start feeling better
Who was this attractive woman? Why did her story not ring true?
Conservatives have lost their way as few defend individual freedom
Archived audio of my Alaska radio interview available for download
Why fixate on nationality, religion and ethnicity of some mass killers?
Apple’s Steve Jobs is dead
Regardless of political beliefs, why does anyone watch Bill O’Reilly?
You’re not going to understand me as I want to be understood
Unconscious programming makes us eager to believe our own lies