Driving along in Kirkland, home of the modern yuppie, I’m passed by a new Mercedes. Lovely, silver, shiny, new, bling-bling; a part of me loaded with insecurity twinges while I purr along in my Toyota. Why? How come this is a metric of my self-esteem? Am I being unfair to myself, being upset by this train of thought and it’s influence? Consider, please, how much this viewpoint is drilled into us. Look at how often this imagery gets pushed into our faces, and how long that’s been going on. It shouldn’t surprise me, really, that I sometimes feel this way. Though my conscious values oppose this, the lingering thread of this programming has threads into the depths psyche.
With great ease, I get sucked into random distractions. This frustrates me no end. Actually, the worst past of the feeling isn't due to the lingering tasks. I end up feeling distracted, fragmented and worn; I hate that sensation. I love the feeling of moving forward, accomplishing goals with a direction and focus. Of course, I adore helping people, especially those I care about. The right balance, oh how I long for thee!
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A neighbor of some friends of ours asked if it was mine, because he was worried it was a car someone dumped there.
I comfort myself knowing that it gets way better gas mileage than most cars and that people are coveting 1990s Hondas right now because of the gas guzzlers the industry has been dumping on us for a while now.