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.

After long but necessary detours, the beginning finally nears for me
Pinning big hopes on Mitt Romney? He’s a hypocrite on ObamaCare
Being alone allows us to indulge our worst flaws and avoid change
Heart that truly loves is a servant for another’s happiness and peace
FRIDAY FUNNIES
She says she’ll always love me, but she didn’t say who she was
Lack of ability to think plays a role in public acceptance of higher taxes
Pursuing transcendent meaning is rebellion against modern culture