Geezer Gil the rationalizer
Today, once again, it was so clear to me that I have a lifelong trait of self-justification. It's not that I hide it from myself or don't know it when I see it. I do give myself an excuse for it; whether that's valid or not, who knows?
Now, don't scoff at the mundane nature of today's situation; all people have petty tasks that they do and have to do. On my to-do list for the day, I had "Tidy bedroom." Yesterday, I had thrown stuff from my file cabinet all over the bedroom floor looking for a serial number of some software, which I never found. What I ended up doing today was to bring all the stuff from the bedroom floor into the living room, where it is in three neat piles, ready to go through for tossing, keeping, and shredding. The self-justification part came when I crossed off "Tidy bedroom" from my to-do list.
So what's my excuse? I grew up, the only child of a hypercritical (no, not hypocritical ... I'd have to think about that) mother. No matter what the situation, she found fault with anything I did, whether it was a household chore, a birthday or other gift that I had bought her, schoolwork, anything! As I grew older, I gradually lost the ability to do anything happily or willingly because I knew I'd only be criticized. My mother also raved and ranted that I never "offered" to do something that needed doing. Well, duh! Why would any rational being offer to do something for which he was going to be given grief?
It's easier to find excuses not to do boring tasks when one reaches 80 years of age: there's the low energy level; the aches and pains that accompany any activity, even ones that are not particularly strenuous; and the fact that one has been doing these tasks for so many years. No one is openly giving me grief these days for the rationalization; it's just become a habit.
Now, don't scoff at the mundane nature of today's situation; all people have petty tasks that they do and have to do. On my to-do list for the day, I had "Tidy bedroom." Yesterday, I had thrown stuff from my file cabinet all over the bedroom floor looking for a serial number of some software, which I never found. What I ended up doing today was to bring all the stuff from the bedroom floor into the living room, where it is in three neat piles, ready to go through for tossing, keeping, and shredding. The self-justification part came when I crossed off "Tidy bedroom" from my to-do list.
So what's my excuse? I grew up, the only child of a hypercritical (no, not hypocritical ... I'd have to think about that) mother. No matter what the situation, she found fault with anything I did, whether it was a household chore, a birthday or other gift that I had bought her, schoolwork, anything! As I grew older, I gradually lost the ability to do anything happily or willingly because I knew I'd only be criticized. My mother also raved and ranted that I never "offered" to do something that needed doing. Well, duh! Why would any rational being offer to do something for which he was going to be given grief?
It's easier to find excuses not to do boring tasks when one reaches 80 years of age: there's the low energy level; the aches and pains that accompany any activity, even ones that are not particularly strenuous; and the fact that one has been doing these tasks for so many years. No one is openly giving me grief these days for the rationalization; it's just become a habit.