Are you really that busy?
I know I am. Hells yeah.
Even if I wasn’t busy, isn’t it a great excuse?
Doesn’t a stern rendition of “I am busy over here!!” command respect? Add a furrowed brow and you’ll cause an immediate about-face retreat.
So if I say clearly to myself – “I’m busy” – it demands a bit of respect.
It’s a pretty basic. I listen to my Ego all the time. I know it’s a manipulative liar desperate for my attention for its survival but it’s always been there for me. Telling me I’m so damn smart. That I am right. That my ideas are all good.
See. He’s got my back. I just wish he’d not bring up the same things over and over. I got it… I’m right – they’re wrong, I have been wronged and at the same time any wrongs I have done aren’t THAT bad. My feeling of righteousness bolstered. Sweet.
But enough already.
I’m even starting to wonder if I’m not really busy. Could it be that my Ego is just saying I’m busy in one of its attempts to win favour? I need an excuse not to do something or too do something and my Ego simply provides it?
Damn, I’m sure going to be busy now.