The Seven Deadly Sins -- Anger

As you may remember from yesterday, assuming your hangover has worn off and you haven't had even more to drink this morning, Santa has rewarded expateek with a set of 7 Deadly Sins socks so that she can contemplate her sinfulness seven days a week and entertain her Readers Reader herself by blogging about said socks. And sins, of course.

Next up?

Wrath (or Anger or "Rage") may be described as inordinate and uncontrolled feelings of hatred and anger. These feelings can manifest as a desire to seek revenge outside of the workings of the justice system, and in generally wishing to do evil or harm to others [especially French clowns]. The transgressions borne of vengeance are among the most serious, including murder [of clowns], assault [on clowns], and in extreme cases, genocide [of all clowns on earth]. Dante described vengeance as "love of justice perverted to revenge and spite".

So today's sin is Anger. And actually, this is going to be a bit of a dry post, because to be honest, expateek doesn't really have problems with anger. She's not an angry person. I mean, look at her. She never yells, she is always so nice, even when people are quite rude to her. She doesn't get worked up when Polish drivers cut her off in traffic. She just takes a deep breath when the downtown parking attendant gestures to a large nearly empty car park and then yells at her in Polish that there are no parking spaces available, because the three patients now at the dentist's office are already using more than the two allotted parking bays.

Even though she can see that there are at least 80 parking spaces available, she apologises for the effrontery of even asking to park, and begs for just five minutes! Przepraszam! Proszę... pięć minuty? He waves her in, with a hate-filled black expression, and she scurries off to drop her daughter at the dentist's office. Five minutes later, huffing and puffing, she's back, thanking the guard for his kindness and driving away.

So nice, that expateek.

And of course, she's completely over her irritation with le French boss of the bad news. Seven sessions of play therapy really did the trick. After all, these clowns French executives are only doing their jobs. And very intelligently too, expateek's sure of that. She doesn't harbour even an iota of hatred toward this clown man who's upended every single damn thing in her life.

No problemo.

After all, expateek is all about calm, calm, calm.

Oh, wait! We forgot! Forgot to try on the socks! Let's do that for a minute, since there's no real material having to do with anger to write about.

Here we go.

Ah, they fit! And aren't they lovely?

And look! The heel is neither too big nor too small.

And the toe box is spacious and comfy.

These socks were made for walkin'. Don't you agree?

Well, there. That about wraps it up. expateek has confessed her sin, mild though it is. ANGER = expateek. Full stop. Although I think you'll agree, expateek is pretty much a model of moderation, given the crap she has to put up with.

But, Readers Reader? A penance prescription, anyone? Anyone? Go ahead, name my penance and I'll do it. (Unless it involves leaving the French clown-doll alone, in which case I really can't promise anything.)

Ta ta!


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