Seven Deadly Sins

Lust

Oh, man. Don't even get me started. You know how Jimmy Carter said that he "lusted in his heart"? You don't? Dude, how young are you? Jimmy Carter was a president, you know. Of the United States. Not that long ago, either. Where was I?

Oh yeah. Lusting in my heart. Admittedly, that's pretty much all I've got, but I do a lot of it. It doesn't seem fair that this is classified as a Deadly Sin, because although I do more than my share of lusting, it's the people that actually go out and do something about it that get in trouble. I may be lonely, but at least I'm disease-free.

That may be the saddest sentence I've ever written.

Anger

I'm doing pretty well on the anger front. Since I've cut the caffeine, I'm much less prone to violent outbursts, except when I'm driving. It's not so much the other people on the road (because I've come to accept the fact that they're all idiots) but the fact that I now have a car radio. I don't understand how a station devoted to the whole decade of the 1980s can have a playlist of only six songs. And I'm pretty tired of listening to ten-minute long prerecorded intros bragging about how much music they play. Shut up already! Just play your damn "Jack and Diane" and "Boys of Summer" and shut up!

Okay, so I've still got some anger. But that's healthy. Yeah.

Jealousy

Did you know I've never won a Diarist award? I've never even been nominated. Now, I'm not saying I'm brilliant here, but I do think I'm pretty good. And in two and a half years of writing, it seems like random chance would result in the occasional piece that's funny enough for a nomination. Or something. I mean, I'm fairly high profile, right? You're reading me!

Meanwhile, all these other people (who, if you want to be a jerk about it, are usually more dedicated and talented than me) get awards left and right. And as a result, I covet their virtual awards shelf. Oh, how I wish I had awards! I occasionally intend to do some big annoying campaign which would at least irritate people into either nominating me or telling me to shut up. But I keep forgetting. For example, the open nominations period for the current awards? It just ended. Yesterday. So even if you're thinking "Poor Monty! He should get awards!" (instead of the more likely "Poor Monty! He should stop whining, because it is unattractive!") there's nothing you can do. That's poor planning for you. And that brings us to . . .

Sloth

Sloths are cool. They can swim really well, but when they're hanging from branches, they barely move. Plus, how many animals are defined by how many toes they've got? I love that! It's like Thomson got his Gazelle, and Przewalski got his wild horse, and then they ran out of people to name animals after, so they just said "Oh, that's the, um, three-toed sloth. Yeah. You want to go get a beer?"

Oh, sorry. I got distracted. Because how often do I get to talk about sloths? They're neat! My point is that Sloth is near and dear to my heart. Sleep is a lot of fun. But do you know what's even more fun? The snooze alarm. I love the snooze alarm. Being a quarter-awake and doing math, trying to figure out if I can afford another nine minutes of sleep. Then desperately trying to fall back asleep, just so I can do it again. When I'm just going back and forth between sleep and hitting the snooze bar, that's good times.

Greed

Hmm. Well, I do want a lot of stuff. There's no question about that. And to get stuff, I like to use money. But I wouldn't say I'm greedy. I've noticed that when new positions open up at work, my first question isn't "How much does it pay?" but "How much would I have to work?" I guess that goes back to "Sloth".

Incidentally, I've noticed that the basic flaw in this concept is that I'm talking exclusively about flaws in my personality, you know? It's hard not to come off like a jerk when the whole focus is "Here's what's wrong with me." I'd balance this off with the Seven Heavenly Virtues, but how exciting is it to read someone bragging about his temperance, prudence, and faith? I suppose I could come up with the Seven Traits of Coolness or something.

Okay, so . . . what's left? Oh!

Gluttony

Not really. I don't eat that much. Only about meal and a half per day, really. And that's counting "chips and salsa" as a meal.

Pride

Yeah, well. As it happens, I do think pretty highly of myself. I'm a big fan! Sorry about that.

Come to think of it, being self-involved would be a pretty good starting-point for the Seven Deadly Coolnesses. Let's see, Being Self-Involved, Hair Products, Musical Snottiness, Nice Boots, Knowing the Right People, Knowing the Wrong People, and, um, I don't know. Something to do with cars, I guess. Or maybe clothes.