A little while ago my friend posted this on her blog and I loved it so I asked her if I could share it. (She probably doesn't think we're friends... but I do. Anyone I stalk is a friend. :))
It's worth your time to read... and so is her blog. She's funny even when she doesn't mean to be and she does such a good job at painting a picture in your mind that I can't help but read her stuff. So if you have some free time, or want to waste some time, you should click on the link to "Emily and Adam" on the right. Enjoy!
From A to B: ixnay on the udgmentjay It's about to get real up in heya so cover your ears if you come here for the laughs.
I was walking down the stairs at the train station today when a buxom woman with a scowl that could have excited the devil came bustled past me and clocked me in the face with her Mary Poppins carpet bag. I covered my smarting nose with my hand, expecting an apology but was met instead with a Move out of the beeping way!
Oh my, the words that crossed my mind! She-devil! Winch! Imbecile! Please note that I'm censoring for the children. Seething with anger, I boarded the train and began to let my brain conjure up thoughts of shoulda-coulda-wouldas.
In my mind's eye, I had just chased her down, pulled the floor lamp out of her bag, and beaned her with it, when a stooped, elderly man boarded the packed train car and made a move to squeeze in by me. Still seething from taking it in the face, I thought, Fat chance, Old Man. If you think I'm moving just because you survived WWII, you'd better think again. Plus, you sorta reek.
As he braced himself against the wall, I noticed he held an appointment card in his gnarled hand. The top of the card read "Washington Cancer Institute." My heart dropped, along with my last shreds of anger.
Then, because I'm a manic, I started getting riled that no one was giving him a seat.
The point is, I'm a judger. And not the "Your Honor" kind, nor the judge righteously type. I see, I assess, and I pass judgment. It's a characteristic I HATE about myself and I often vow to overcome the glaring natural man, only to find myself pinning a skinny girl with an eating disorder the very next day.
Between both Adam and myself we can't seem to remember the exact origin of this story but we recently heard an account of a professor who asked the members of his class to anonymously write down a trial they were each dealing with presently. He collected the papers and read them aloud. Rape, fear, divorce, death, anxiety, unplanned pregnancy. Each person was dealing with something monumental and not a single person in that room knew about it.
Take Ole Bopped-Me-On-The-Nose for example. She had probably been up all night with a sick baby. She then might have broken her heel on the way to work and had to wear her spare flip-flops all day which didn't bode well with with her boss, who was already yelling at her for a misplaced file. Maybe she forgot her lunch, her cell phone, and her Metro pass. She also forgot about picking up her great-aunt from physical therapy, which is where she was running to when she passed my sauntering hiney and thought, If that little twerp doesn't get out of my way, I'm going to clock her in the face with my Mary Poppins carpet Bag.
Or maybe she's just an ornery old hag.
Either way, how am I to know?
Since I'm a sucker for rhetorical cliches: have I walked a mile with her Mary Poppins carpet bag? Not a chance.
The thin, tan, blond mother is fighting depression, the trite business man exiting his Lexus recently lost his mother, and the indifferent teenager behind the Taco Bell counter is working two jobs to help with rent.
Every single one of us is going through something and "who am I to judge another, when I walk imperfectly?" In fact, Adam and I are in the midst of something so thick that I wouldn't even wish it upon those boys in sixth grade who mocked my hot pink t-shirt.
So I made a vow. For the next week, I'm going to remain acute to this despicable habit of mine. When judgmental thoughts cross my mind, I'm going to nip 'em and flip 'em.
In other words, wanna bash me in the face with your Mary Poppins carpet bag? Now's your chance.
And see? I blogged this entire thing from inside a bath tub and you had no idea. You just never know....
