Critical Thinking

from the other side of the wall, i hear a voice. it's a voice I've been hearing since i arrived, and expect to go on hearing until i leave. one by one the days of my life will be measured out by the unchanging cadence of this voice, repeating eternally the same conversations.



. . . well, he is a pain, but he's my father, so, you know, of course i'm going to take care of him . . . no, my brother can't help - well, he won't, so i guess i'll just do it all . . . would you believe it took him two hours to get up this morning? anybody else whould've just left him in bed, but not me . . . not that he's planning on leaving me anything in the will. now, my sister, on the other hand . . . i have a life too, what about my life . . . no, i live with him . . .



actually, we weren't even in this market until i came along . . . found it all by myself and it is BIG . . . had to convince them to do it, but i was right . . . making a lot of money, thanks to me . . . no, no, i don't mind, after all, it's not about me . . .



little by little my patience wears thin - full up with the combination of self-pity and self-agrandizement that streams into my office daily. (not to mention that he routinely gets caught in lies to cover his own mistakes.) what i am trying to establish here is that i am fully justified in the absolute scorn and contempt that i feel for this man.



and that brings me up short everytime. because i am NOT justified - not by any measure. his sins are no less covered than my own, and i am confronted with the knowledge that it is i who have no excuse.