On being better

Not perfect, just better.

Today was a snow day, and plenty of people who could have come in and prolly shoulda come in just didn't. It was a giant excuse for everyone to stop.

You know, I stop. I do. I slack. I fart around at the office. I write blog posts and entertaining personal emails there.

It's not that. It's not that because that's a down moment, not a standard. What seriously disturbs me is the effort to maintain that lifestyle.

That's technically awful isn't it? To judge and publicly disapprove of how someone chooses to live? Even if that way of living is doing the minimum possible and expecting other people to give you even more than need. That sense of expectation, deservedness. Privilege. It pisses me off.

Don't worry. If you're reading this, it probably doesn't apply to you. It applies to Alicia-with-a-dot in Hebrew who talks during class like she's the only one there. She complains that her homework should get an excellent, because for *her* it was excellent. With all that red. Or the horrible teacher who just wants a captive audience. The person who wants a government job so they can barely show up and still get paid, who winds up getting promoted just so other people can get rid of them.

Where does the total lack of motivation come from. You can't blame it on weed. I know too many smart and productive pot-heads.

I know. Rant.
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