Ooops

Wen I reflect on all I’ve done in my life and all the choices I’ve made, some direct and some choices made through inaction, I wonder how it is that I rarely seem to get it right. Sometimes, I speculate that Larry David had an informant on the inside here somehow and that I’m actually George Costanza.

Who does one apologise to when one makes a series of horrid missteps that lead to not only hurting one’s self but to hurting other people, even when they really shouldn’t feel hurt? Sure, an apology helps those wronged a little, but they’ll still hate one in the end, or worse, stop caring altogether unless they’re considering what to wear to the funereal. And what about one’s own self-respect? Does it help to apologise to one’s self?

Actually, it does, I’ve found, but just for a little bit as when the patina of centred-ness wears off, the reality of having fouled where one goes poo-poo can’t be undone by mere words. Only the right actions the first time would make a difference.

I’m been told, no, accused of arrogance. My excuse if that this is my personality, that it’s a form of defensiveness and that I need to have some arrogance and that’s a part of self-confidence. I will admit that I become very arrogant when confronted with what I know is willfull bullsh*t because it’s rude and condesending and anyone who deals with me knows that I’m no idiot.

Still, I’ve toned this done a great deal. Still, it’s not enough, which makes me think that for some, only total submission would fill the bill so that their snese of fear ad anxiety at my potential “powere” could be eliminated. Well, I’m not responsible for making anyone feel anything that I still have to pay the price if they aren’t satisfied.

When I was a little boy, I travelled on CN from Edmonton to Montreal to see my godparents. Such a trip was about three days by train and we travelled coach because we didn’t have triple the fare to have a sleeper. By the second or thrid day, I was bored with my toys and books and coloring so much so that there was only a thousand miles of countryside to look at, mostly farmland or wilderness lakes. There’s only so much time a little kid can spend in the bathroom, repeatedly pressing the hand