Really, it’s all about me

And I’m not talking about being self-centered. I’m talking about the things in life we blame on other people.

For example: today, the dog reached onto the coffee table and snagged the leftover sandwich bite I had left on a plate. Was she supposed to do that? No. Did she know that? Yes. Was she A FREAKING DOG? Yes.

Even though I got mad at her, I knew that the fault lay with me. Sure, she shouldn’t have done it, but who was the Einstein who left a bite of tuna sandwich on the coffee table? The only thing more enticing would have been peanut butter. Tonight I got mad at the puppy for stealing a pair of socks on the floor, waiting to be put away. He’s a puppy. They were a roll of socks on the floor. You don’t have to be a brilliant logic master to predict what happens next. I could have prevented it.

Then I think of how many times in life do we get angry when really something could have been done on our part to prevent it? * Apart from me getting mad at my dogs for being dogs, my point here is I realize I still harbor jealousy toward award winners (and nominees) and the successful.

Then I wonder, what did I do today? Did I write an awesome book? Well, no. I did a lot of work, and I outlined a new writing project, but no, I did not write an awesome book. Perhaps if I can get a book I am proud of, and get it published, and get it noticed, and read, and enjoyed, then maybe I can have some reason to be jealous. But currently this bad feeling comes from me, not them. These authors did nothing but work hard and get rewarded for it.

I can’t fault them for excelling at something I would like to do someday…

* Before someone takes this to the extreme, no, I don’t think domestic/sexual violence is the victim’s fault. It is not unreasonable to assume humans have the ability not to assault each other.