Why Do I Have to Be Such a Jerk?

I wake up in the morning and stumble into the bathroom. I’m still rubbing the crud from my eyes. My jolly roommate watches me walk in and makes some happy comment. Running my hand through my tangled mop of hair, I grab my towel and head for the shower, not even giving his comment the respect of a reply.

Why do I have to be such a jerk some days? Granted I had an excuse. It was early and I was tired. Grumpyness is a forgivable sin before 9:00 am. But I have to admit that it doesn’t end there. I don’t turn into a happy and well adjusted individual come 9:00 am. I’m still easily on edge. I worked with you on that one project, and you butchered my idea. You’re a manager, and you don’t know what you’re doing. All day long snide little comments echo in my head, bitter little jabs at this person or that person. Luckily they’re just in my head. But who am I to say such things? It’s just a silly project–get over it. You’re not the manager–don’t worry about it.

Sometimes I think I walk around with my head so largely inflated I’m lucky I can even get through the door. I’ve somehow latched on to the idea that I’m better, that my ideas rule, that I know how to do everything. Since when did I get so important? Loving and serving others involves forgetting about yourself. Some days I think I just need to wash some feet.

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