I plead guilty to some of these.
No 1…. check. I occasionally react with revulsion and startlement to disfigured people. I usually control my reaction reasonably fast. But I am not cheerful with my attitude.
No 2…. nope. I like going to funerals because they are usually fun. Especially when she’s over 90 and kicked ass.
No 3. Schadenfreude? I recollect a conversation in which I was the only person at the table who pleaded guilty. My goodness, I lower the tone sometimes.
No 4. Playing favourites with the kids. Because my kids have different interests and abilities, I have always, from day 1, treated them differently. I don’t think I play favourites, but they might.
No 5. Weighing the wallet. People who are broke and self-actualized have higher status with me than wealthy emotional deadbeats. But I am middle class, and sometimes I have to tease apart the notion of worth from the notion of flushness. Specially if I’m ‘specting you to buy lunch.
No 6. Thank God it’s finally over. I figured, on the basis of what my GF Tammy said, that I’d be prostrate with grief from my split with Paul. I moved out the beginning of May and I have had three twinges and one crying jag… and the crying jag was about the house, not him. I’m not sorry I had children with him, but I had NO CLUE how relieved I’d be when I didn’t have to live with him any more. He’s not malicious, stupid, dishonest, addicted or lazy – quite the contrary. I’m just not his flavour any more, and vice versa. So yeah, I’m guilty of the not crying when maybe I ought to, but as a kindly relative remarked, I did a lot of grieving before I ever closed that door.
No 7. Whee hee, fantasy. I prefer staying focussed in the moment, with my partner, but that probably has more to do with me being Ye olde school hippye chicke than anything else.