I am a hypocrite and a snot. 

Last winter the girls and I gave a homeless man hot cider and a sandwich.  After he drank the cider he proceed to wet himself.  Then he cried.  The witnessing of this event was a raw and difficult one.  On the car ride home my sick and demented humor came out.  It was necessary for me to pop that balloon of tension.  An observer of our laughter would have been appalled.

I completely understood what was happening and why.

Today it was my 300 lb client who failed to shower, wore inappropriate tight fitting clothes (that  exposed her lower giblets) and had horrible breath.  Her ex, pierced and tattooed, was shortly thereafter escorted to jail.

The whole time all I could think about was their presentation.  There is no effort.  No outward physical pride.  No effort at bettering themselves educationally.  Poor, uneducated, and dirty.  I was judging them as individuals and as caretaker parents. 

I wouldn’t let them raise my cat.

Today I am clean, styled and manicured.

I don’t want her hand to touch mine.  I don’t want him too close to me up at that podium. But I took her money and am working for her.  I think I am better than she is.  I know I am better than she is.  On the outside I try to treat everyone with dignity and respect.  My thoughts are less than kind. 

She is a fat, lazy, idiot. 

There I wrote it.

I am so glad these people are not my people.  These people are my people. 

The rich and famous have to be guilty of this.  An immense ego of grandiosity.  Cars, money, looks, jewelry, things that define them.  Exceptional talents that set them apart from others. 

Judging on outward appearances, outward successes, and individual work effort and credentials.

I am sorry I have these thoughts.  I am not sorry I have these thoughts.  These thoughts intrigue me.  These random explorations.  I evaluate myself based upon them.  I see this ugly side.  I make myself promise that I will continue to do my best on every case regardless of the outward and inner qualities of my client.  I will let my thoughts run out and then down that drain.  I will continue to be critical of others and myself.  But my humor is mine and it gets me through.  I am not going to apologize for my choice of self-medication.

I wonder about these thoughts especially when I enter that back room at the water cooler and those $300.00 an hour attorneys look at my Kohl’s shoes and JCPenny slacks.  They won’t take my judgements because they are not drafted on water marked paper.  My Toyota doesn’t compare to their Porsche.  I don’t get to play golf with the judge or have lavish parties on the firm yacht  My conference room doesn’t support a glass coffee table with ten $500.00 chairs.  I am not invited to their homes or to their parties.

Nor would I go. 

They want to define me.  I see them look at me like I look at her giblet.

They are not better than me.  They are better than me.  No, wait, we are exactly the same. 

This life full or irony and satire.  We play our parts well.

It’s after days like these.  I just want to write and to be alone.  I don’t like humanity much.  It seems little tolerance and even less honor surrounds me. 

I don’t much like myself. 

I discover I like my fellow man even less.

But I go home and there is laughter.  My girls are waiting for me.  They are beautiful in every way.  They are my contribution to this messed up world.  Tokens of goodness, laughter and light. 

These creatures make up for all my faults. They are my motivation to try harder. 
I will do even better.

Like a work of art it’s all just progress.

I recognize it for exactly what it is.