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Anger
Oh, man, do I have a lot. I'm a frustrated, anal-retentive, pent-up cauldron of rage. Will
I suddenly go nuts and start blowing people away at work, then? No. For one thing, work is going pretty well for me (if you
don't count the current stock prices. See: Greed). The other is that I have no affinity whatsoever for firearms, explosives,
poisons, or other instruments of death. Another reason is appreciation of the consequences. I have no desire to spend the
rest of my life in prison. I have too many hobbies to maintain... which may be the biggest reason I can keep my anger in check.
But just about everything irritates me. I'd be irritated if someone gave me a copy of "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff."
Why? Am I too easily annoyed? IS THAT WHAT YOU MEAN BY THIS GIFT??
I'm angry about many things. My personal appearance.
My weight. My lack of a boyfriend - EVER. My general lack of fulfilled dreams. I was supposed to be doing special effects
or animation for motion pictures. So what happened? If you believe in fate, you could argue that that life was "not meant
to be." Why the hell not? I'd like some answers, please.
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Envy
This
sort of goes with anger, or is a big cause of it. Like any child, I'm insanely jealous of anyone who has something I want,
but don't have. Money. Looks. Talent. A husband or boyfriend. Not fame, though. Ugh, what a curse. Fortunately I have years
of experience keeping my envy in check, else every married woman I see would be verbally assaulted. "YOU!! WHY ARE YOU MARRIED
AND I'M NOT?? ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU!!" Long ago I developed the habit of checking out people's left hands before any other part.
Normal humans look at eyes first, or the face, or maybe breasts, if you're a guy and into that kind of thing. I check for
wedding rings. Why? For women, it answers two questions: Does she have something I don't, and Do I like the design of the
ring? Usually the answer is NO for the latter. I swear, there are some really chintsy wedding sets out there... For men, it
answers one question: Is he available?
You can see how such behavior (the verbal assaults) wouldn't go over well.
At least, it would be terribly confusing. At worst... probably a guest spot on "Cops." Envy is what makes me the most pathetic,
since I'm envious of things I should just accept. Unfortunately the Serenity Prayer is pretty much wasted on me. I want change,
not acceptance!
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Pride
Enter my ego.
In spite of what you've read above, which shows me as having disgustingly low self-esteem, I have a huge ego. I want to be
noticed, I want to be heard and seen and laughed at (er, when I make jokes) and paid attention to in general. So what's this
crap about not being envious of famous people? I am, sort of. Then I think about what it's like for them to be famous, and
retract the envy. But when in a group, I still want to be the center of attention.
Now some will argue that this is
not pride. That's part of pride. The other part is thinking that you're better than others. Hence the fable about Lucifer
vs. God. "Pride goeth before a fall," etc etc. By no stretch do I think that I look better than anyone else, or have physical
skills higher than others. No way. My body is a mess. But my brains and talent, well, that's different. I think I'm highly
intelligent and talented. I think I'm very funny and could have a fine career doing stand-up comedy. Not that what I'm writing
RIGHT NOW is funny, but that's not my intention here. I have the Comedy Routines page for that. And don't ask me about my
hobbies if we meet, unless you crave enough Show and Tell to last three lifetimes.
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Gluttony
This
should probably be listed first. I love food. LOVE it. I love eating it, preparing it, hell, even smelling it. A friend once
remarked that she'd never met anyone before who so enjoys the act of eating as I do. I savor every bite and eat slowly to
give my stomach more time to digest so I can finish the whole meal. In those cases where I do get full, I'm still thinking
of what I'm going to eat next when I'm NOT full anymore.
To put it another way, NEVER take food from my plate, even
if it seems funny to you. I will not be responsible for the consequences if you do.
Get the picture? Maybe not all
of it. I don't weigh 400 pounds, or even 300, or even... um, well. Jolly good. I can sit on one chair and not break it. I
can sit in coach on an airplane and not squash the people next to me. I don't break toilets or fall through floors. I am heavy,
yes. That's obvious at a glance. I see those 300+ pounders and think There but for the grace of God go I, though. I SHOULD
look like them, but something is keeping me from making THEM look thin. It couldn't be a lack of..
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Sloth
Like Anger and Envy, this is Gluttony's comrade-in-arms. I'm a lazy cuss. Undisciplined,
even. Give myself a schedule and I won't keep it. Make a list of projects to do, and I'll paint model kits in front of the
TV until bedtime. Oops, damn, I didn't send out those thank you notes or write those letters or have the front door replaced
or do the dishes or sweep the floor or...
Again, you get the picture. I'm quite the hedonist. Without a metaphorical
gun to the head, it just won't get done. Never, EVER give me a project and say "Take your time!" because oh, yes, I will.
Oh, yes. My theme song should be that section of "The Merry Olde Land of Oz" that goes "We get up at 12 and start to work
at 1. Take an hour for lunch and then at 2 we're done. Jolly good fun!"
On the other hand, bills get paid. My cat
gets food and water put into his bowls. I bathe and get up in the morning (after hitting the snooze button for an hour) and
go to work and do stuff there, albeit in my own, totally unscheduled, helter skelter way. Uh... like right now. I am "Wally"
in the Dilbert strip. I am Beetle Bailey. Both spend vast amounts of time, energy, and brainpower to avoid work. Welcome to
my world.
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Greed
As I said elsewhere,
I used to not know greed until I got a job that included stock options. Now all I think about besides food and more Mara stories
is... those stock options. What are they worth now? How about a minute from now? The next minute? Are they up? Can I retire
yet? Whadda you mean, "Quiet Period??" Look how high the prices are! Damn you, HR!!
I don't buy lottery tickets every
week, because, in the long run, that would come to $52 per year and nothing in return. The odds are just too great for me
to become addicted. That $52 is better spent on a new resin kit, comic books, or the latest Movie Maniacs figure series from
McFarlane Toys. Okay, so I should be investing the money if I'm as greedy as I claim to be. In this instant gratification
world? Be serious.
That being said, I do enter the Publishers' Clearing House sweepstakes as often as I possibly can.
No, I don't buy things from them to make sure I win. In this case I just have to trust that they're legit and really DON'T
make you buy things. And every year, after the Superbowl ends, which is when PCH announces the Grand Prize Winner, I get depressed.
DE-PRESSED. Why? Duh - someone ELSE won, that's why. So the realization sets in that I have to keep working for yet another
year, and I am NOT happy about it.
Oh, Lord, wontcha buy me a winning lottery ticket? I don't want to work, Lord;
I just want to stick it.
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Lust
And
so remains the final sin, aka the only one of which I am not guilty. If you think there's something wrong with me for this,
well, gee, sorry that SIX isn't enough for you. Although I do go through monthly fits where I'm sad and lonely and pray long
and hard for a man (oddly enough, this coincides with an also-monthly event that most women go through), overall, I think
about food, Mara stories, and what I'd do with 10 million dollars. Maybe my brain just isn't equipped to handle more than
3 constant topics a day, and so left out lusting after hotties and wet dreams. Come to think of it, do women have wet dreams?
I'd ask a fellow female, but she might not understand my context. But enough digressing.
In high school, it used to
be necessary to point out to me that a man (or I suppose boy, depending on what grade he was in) was attractive, since his
good looks didn't really register. Then I'd give a second look and think By Gum, I guess he IS a hottie. Yes, I did think
"By Gum," and often still do.
I can tell right off that a woman is attractive, but my reaction is generally to feel
Envy that her body/face is better than mine. So I'm envious of most women. But that sin was already covered.
Oddly
enough, the more attractive a man is, the less effect he has on me. I blame the left side of my brain for this. Long ago I
came to the conclusion that nice body = working out. Regularly. Hard. And wishing that everyone else did, too. A personal
trainer is not my idea of an ideal boyfriend. These guys' jobs are to goad others into working out - something that doesn't
fit my lifestyle very well (see: Sloth). I seem to gravitate towards men that appear harmless. The little guys, the computer
geeks, the guys with cherubic faces and possibly cherubic bodies as well. At least that way I know they could appreciate my
own situation. Unfortunately, I'm now at the age where the daily beatings in school have ended, and those same men now have
wives.
What saves me in this situation is that I'm not lusting after them. Taken? Darn, I think, snapping my fingers
(or not), on to the others. Of course I Envy that some other woman has bagged the guy, but again, that sin has been mentioned
before.
So do I have any fantasies *at all* about the opposite sex? I think so, but nothing worthy of the Spice Channel.
Lots of hugging and kissing within the context of marriage, that's my steamy romantic dream. Woo-HOO, turn down that thermostat,
folks, hot in here, isn't it? And I'm not even a devout... well, any religion, actually, so where this prudishness came from,
don't ask ME.
You could ask me OUT, though. >:-)
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