Day #8: The 73 Reasons I'm Doing This Project

I realize I've been unclear with this project.

On the surface, it must look like I'm fishing for compliments. It seems like I'm beating myself up and want confirmation that I'm a nice person.

The fact of the matter is, I'm not very insecure. For the most part, I like myself. If anything, I would be more worried about inflating my ego.

Everything I do has a purpose to it. The last challenge blog I did was a way for me to examine dating and relationships. Now I want to examine what it means to be "nice." I think what we as a society think of in terms of "nice people" is inaccurate.

Do "nice" people gossip?

If yes, how much are they allowed to gossip until they're "not nice" people?

If no, do nice people get angry?

What if "nice" people get angry unjustly?

Are they still nice when they're wrong?

My father is an asshole eight hours a day at his work. His work doesn't call for him to be an asshole. He just finds that it makes things a little bit easier for him. He could be "nice," and his employees would be happy, but he doesn't look at it that way.

"I'm nice when I'm at home. I'm not nice at work."

So can you be conditionally nice and still be a nice person?

I wanted to examine all this, and have all of you give me your feedback on it, because I think it's something we don't really think about enough.

Basically, are we really good people?

And I know the easy answer is, "Sometimes," but is that a fair answer?

Let me tell you the 73 reasons I'm doing this project:

The other day, as part of the challenge, I decided to document how many times I WOULD be mean if given the chance. How many times would I make a rude comment or be catty?

I figured it would be somewhere around the fifteen to twenty mark.

Ready for this?

Seventy-three times.

And these weren't provoked. I'll give you some examples.

A man driving in front of me on my way to work was going the speed limit. He was a little old man going along, not doing anybody any harm. His only fault was that I was running late for work.

What would I have said in my car if given the chance?

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? SPEED THE FUCK UP OR GET OUT OF MY WAY. YOU'RE SUCH A FUCKING IDIOT. IT'S NOT LIKE YOU HAVE ANYWHERE TO BE SINCE YOU'RE EIGHTY-FUCKING-YEARS OLD."

That, my friends, is not something a nice person says.

And don't say--Well, you have your moments.

I realize when I stopped myself from saying that that I make a comment like that at least five times on any given trip anywhere while in my car.

Road rage, you say?

Okay, how about at the supermarket--

There was a woman in front of me with lots of items. She's food shopping. Of course, she's going to have lots of items. She was going at a brisk pace trying to check out. I wanted to go home because I was hungry.

My response in my head had I not checked it?

"WOW, YOU FUCKING NEED ALL THAT FOOD DON'T YOU? IF I WERE YOU, I'D LOOK INTO LETTUCE. UGH, FUCKING STUPID BITCH."

Real nice, right? My grandmother would cut me up for that comment, and she'd have a right to.

Ignore the caps lock in this one, because this wasn't a rage thing. This was someone irritating me simply by existing.

Where do I get off getting mad at someone for not rushing so I can get home?

One more example--

I'm at Dunkin Donuts getting coffee, and there's a small line.

Nobody's being loud. Nobody's being obnoxious. Nobody's doing anything but waiting patiently for their turn.

What goes through my head?

"You all are such fucking white trash. I wish I lived somewhere rich where I wouldn't have to see you people. Maybe some of yo should have stayed in school. Jesus fucking Christ."

Um...not okay.

Not okay at all.

Now consider that my head had SEVENTY-THREE things like this floating around in there on an average day.

This was without going out to a club, without seeing family or friends, without really interacting. This was all simply from living in the world.

This has to change.

I know I'm not an awful person, but until I started this project, I didn't realize how much awful stuff was living inside my head. I'm going to use the project to figure out why that stuff is there and how I can get rid of it.

I invite all of you to read this, or not. Or do the same for yourselves, or not. I'd love to have discussions about why we get mad at what we get mad at, or why we're quick to judge, or why we're impatient.

Impatience is a big one.

Until recently, if you had asked me if I was patient, I would have said 'Yes. Absolutely.'

Then when I started checking in on myself, I realized I was losing my temper every three seconds.

So this is my confession: I'm not a patient person, and that kills me.

I value people who are patient, and I refuse to accept that I'm not one. I'm not going down without a fight.

I have a lot of people in my family who have taken the "That's who I am, deal with it" approach, and I think maybe I fell into that trap, but I'm about to climb out.

I'm not looking for compliments or agreements or even much support, because as I said, I'm strong enough to do this without it shattering my perception of myself.

I'm doing this because I can do better. I can be better than I am. I think everyone can, so there's nothing self-deprecating about that statement.

Seventy-three nasty comments is too much for someone who has so much good stuff in his life.

Hopefully in ninety-two days, I'll have a lot less.