I’m often accused of being judgmental, but what do those bastards know, amIrite?
I can be grumpy and testy and, well, just like the grumpy, testy people I come across every freaking day. Perhaps I get a bad rap because I don’t suffer fools easily and patience is not one of my virtues.
But I’m trying to be better — I will need people around in my old age to wipe my bum — and this poem, by St. Teresa of Calcutta (better known as Mother Teresa) is a place to start. I printed it out a couple months ago and taped it up on the wall next to my desk at work. I find myself turning to it regularly throughout the day when incompetent idiots think I will drop everything I’m doing to solve their stupid problems. I mean, of course, when I find myself mildly vexed by the questions of coworkers.
Hey, no one said this would be easy or quick.