So many of the Seven Deadly Sins overlap.
I wanted to write an entry about each of the sins, but then I realized that too many of them overlap. How about I write a few sentences for each, instead?
Greed
Lately I’ve been thinking about how much of my life is structured around the need to make more and more money. On the one hand, I feel like this is noble. I’m trying to make money to buy my kids a house and three college educations. On the other hand, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sometimes lull myself to sleep with fantasies of winning the lottery.
“Oh, God,” I pray. “If you let me win the lotto, I swear to Christ on the Bible that I’ll set up a charitable foundation as WELL AS a charter school that smart little poor kids can attend on scholarship. Also, I’ll be nice to everybody and quit wishing harm to others on the freeway all the time.”
Once that’s out of the way, the dream machine cranks up. In its movie screen projection, I’m walking into the Galleria to purchase any single thing that catches my eye. And I’m doing it in really beautiful crocodile slingbacks.
That’s as far as I can before I pass out in a paroxysm of greed.
Anger
As mentioned above, I sometimes wish harm to people on the freeway. I grit my teeth and throw the finger at them under the dashboard, saying the very nastiest, vilest curse word combinations I can come up with on such short notice. It’s horrible.
Lately I’m trying not to get so mad. For one thing, those people can’t hear me doing it, so it’s not like my anger teaches them any lessons. For another thing, I always imagine that God wants me to be more understanding. Maybe these people have reasons for tailgating, cutting me off, oozing out of their lanes towards my car, and refusing to let me pass. At the very least, I should probably have compassion for them because they can’t help being born stupid.
I try not to wish that they’d wreck or that I’d shoot them with a hood-mounted flamethrower. I try to temper my anger by imagining, instead, that I had the power to make them run out of gas or the ability to put them five miles back on their journeys.
Lust
It’s perfectly natural to love someone whole-heartedly and loyally while still wanting everyone else to want to have sex with you, isn’t it?
What?
Oh. No wonder God hasn’t let me win the lottery.
Envy
I don’t really envy anybody, hardly, but I do sometimes have thoughts as follows about people who’re more successful than me:
1. “Oh, you’re so awesome. But can you do that with three kids, bitch?”
2. “Yeah… I could do that, too, if I had a husband who was paying my rent.”
3. “Oh, sure. You think you’re so freaking awesome and cool. I COULD HAVE TIME TO DO ALL THAT STUFF, TOO, IF I WERE LIVING RENT-FREE. You bastard. SHUT THE HELL UP!”
Does that count as envy?
Pride
I would say that the sin of pride is the one I’m most in touch with.
That’s all. No further comment.
Sloth
I wish I were lazy but I’m not. I’m the opposite of lazy – I can’t relax.
I used to be a lot more sloth-y, but now I’m making up for it. I used to lie in bed reading and eating Little Debbie Swiss Rolls for hours on end, until it was time for a nap.
Now I can’t watch TV without doing the laundry at the same time. I can’t lie in bed unless I’m reading something important or making notes on what to do next.
My boyfriend forces me to lie on the couch and watch TV with him. It makes me jittery and I squirm around. “Be still and watch this [nature show/dirt bike competition/James Bond movie] with me,” he says. I sigh and force myself to space out. Vegetate. Medidate. Relax.
I can let myself do this because, secretly in my mind, I call it “working on my relationship.”
Gluttony
For gluttony, I’ll just post the URL to the inspiration for this entry:
The devil in all his mouse-over forms.*
How sad is it that, if a genie gave me four wishes, my fourth wish would be that every donut I ate would make me lose one pound? I’ve eaten donuts once in the past three years. And, on that occasion, I ate about eight of them. And I was ashamed. But I can still taste them. Like junkies taste heroin and crack. Because they are evil.
* I actually prefer Shipley’s to Krispy Kreme. But those pictures are donut porn.
