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.

Cat’s ordeal reminds me that bad things happen right under my nose
Suppressing speech you don’t like is a lousy way to encourage tolerance
Effort to boot unethical congressman laudable, but will it really help?
Insane incentives create insane results as kids are paid to attend classes
Some of us don’t seem ‘wired up’ to stay sane working for others
At what point does a president become a dictator to be impeached?
Goodbye, Courtney Haden
U.S. debt per capita worse than basket cases such as Greece
Do people change? Or do we just learn how to manage our faults?