#fattofabover50 #votefornobody

Day 329 – I am mystified by hypocritical know-it-alls. And I should know. I’m one.

“Don’t confuse me with the facts.” That is one of my favorite “ok I’m crying uncle and give” lines I use when I’m out-classed in an argument and getting slammed with immutable, verifiable, brutal, cruel reality, facts that contradict what I think, or believe to be true.

It just means I don’t care. Whatever IT is, if it doesn’t comport with my world view…I’m gonna hang onto it…come hell or high water.  I used to get into prolonged diatribes to try to convince those who don’t agree with me, that only if they’d listen, they would hear what I’m saying and agree! Ahhhhh…the gift of hindsight. If only I could get that breath back!

When I got engaged (back in the day), it seemed everyone I encountered felt it was incumbent upon them to inflict upon me every opinion they have ever held about weddings, marriage and religion. Every one, to a person, was an instant f’ing Emily Post, Miss Manners etiquette expert, and the Pope all rolled into one. I tried not to call out any of the hypocrisies or the wicked ironies…having watched many of these instant Cotillion courtesans fail spectacularly at navigating those waters themselves. But mostly those encounters left me resentful, angry, and with sore heels from digging them deeper, emboldened with more, clueless conviction than ever.

During this political season this is precisely what is happening to me. I am catching myself being sucked into conversations with (what I consider) hysterical, hypocritical, instant experts…because they heard something. It must be true. And now they are predicating their precious voting right on something they have no clue about and can’t divine if what they believe is gospel or garbage, fact or fiction.

I’m just hypocritical enough to believe I’m the exception. And that is my point. At this point? Who f’ing knows?! And politics is a life-long passion of mine.

It was stressful voting today and boy did I catch myself triggering. Hard. There was a short line and I overheard a couple of people speaking about the candidates and why they are voting for them. I immediately felt my chest tighten. It was like I was watching one of those shows where they ask people on the street who the Vice President is, or how many “Commandments” are in the Constitution. And…well…you know where I’m going with this…right?

The bad voice in the back of my head (whom I’ve named “Patty”) said, “After this let’s go to Starbucks and get your favorite Venti Oprah Chai Latte as a reward for voting and not getting arrested for strangling these two idiots.” (And Patty was using the term idiot lightly.) Instead, I went home, got a cold bottle of water, and wrote my way through the temptation. Once again, journaling my feelings saves my ass, literally and figuratively.

All I’m sayin’….

If you aren’t intellectually curious enough to make a non-lemming, independent, and informed decision…please don’t vote. I, of course, have made a completely informed, independent, non-lemming choice! Hypocrisy abounds!

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