Stairwell

A few weeks ago, I was running down the stairs to get back to the lab, so that I could leave on time to have a wonderful afternoon with one of my daughters. One floor up from where I planned to exit the stairwell, I was held up by a herd of doctors that were on their way to a conference or lunch or any number of possible places to discuss things that doctors discuss together. Attempting to be friendly, I said hello to the the lot of them, yet didn't get much in response. Actually, the tallest of the group, the obvious Alpha of the Alphas, gave me a little incredulous puff of air between his teeth and lips and a smirk, suggesting that I would be better off greeting someone of my own species, and then they all looked at each other laughing at the unlikliness of the whole thing, and walked down the stairs, forcing me to the wall with their momentum and otherwise inconsiderate gait. They were guys about my age. I thought that maybe they had a right to treat the "help" in such a cruel and thankless way for a second, and then I promptly woke up and realized that we are all trapped on this planet and it doesn't really help much when we create these divisions amongst ourselves, destroying ourselves, when we have international bankers who want to enslave us all, who are the real enemy to freedom and love and happiness, and that I should shrug it off and go about my business.

Well, that may be the case, but it doesn't really help the assault on self-esteem due to being confronted by outright prejudice and inconsideration. I wanted to trip the last one of the guys so that he could bowl over all of the other robots below him, sending the whole gaggle of goons down the stairs, so that I could have a good laugh and possibly experience the immediate gratification and fleeting relief of revenge. Nevertheless, I went on my way, told a co-worker about the incident and we had a good laugh at the absurdity of the matter, carrying on throughout the day, relishing the love of our families and the good that comes from life, as a result of attempting to continuously focus on the good in life.

So, remember, you are not insane for feeling like running over the rude and the nasty little nabobs out there with your car. You might, however, be insane if you think that being treated like a schmuck and a door mat is right or justifiable. I will try to give someone like that doctor a hug next time. Maybe even a wet Willy if I am feeling particularly surly that day. Keep up the good fight, and remember, we are all insane to the degree that we let sociopaths tell us that what we are doing is good as long as it caters to their agenda. Amen.