I confess...that I'm some odd hybrid of total self-doubt and a bit of snobbery.
I doubt I'm good at my current job (or my last job). I doubt I'll find another.
I doubt that people like me and think they merely tolerate me.
I doubt the people who tell my husband I'm pretty and think they are just humoring him.
I doubt the pain will stop and doubt I am strong enough to deal with it. I also doubt whether I'm a good person b/c I complain about it when others have problems that are so much worse.
But I also confess that I get pretty darn high-and-mighty. I get annoyed by dumb people, and I think a lot of people are dumb. I get REALLY annoyed by verbal tics and certain grammatical errors (though I'm not flawless here). I think America needs to move its collective butt more and realize that exercise is more than walking to the fridge for another beer. I feel virtuous for being fit. I am proud of having attended top-notch schools and think my education was superior to most. I think being early (and I'm obsessively so) is a major virtue.
Now I want to put in disclaimers. I have them. But I'll resist that urge.
The Boy says we are all hypocritical. I try not to be when it comes to specifics...I try to follow the golden rule and all that jazz. Maybe I'm more paradoxical than hypocritical. I like that word...paradoxical...sounds mysterious and kinda sexy.
Add that to the pompous side.