Where Have All the Garbage Bags Gone, O Where O Where Have They Gone?

I hope today that all of us remember that we're perfect just the way we are.  Just for today.  That doesn't mean I'm not a work in progress, that there aren't things I need to improve or to work on.  It means that I should give myself a break.  If I'm honest about it I'm never going to fully measure up to the impossibly irrational expectations I have of myself.  I suspect I believe deep down inside that I can achieve perfection when the surface reality is that if I can get to the point where I'm not a total fuckup then I'm doing okay.

I peeked over the fence today into Garbage Bag Guy's backyard and all the refuse was gone.  When does he get this stuff done?  I didn't hear him pile the bags up and I didn't hear him remove the bags?  Why doesn't he get a paying job so he no longer has to stack overfilled garbage bags right up to my fence line?  The format of the meeting yesterday - when the bags were still there and when I believed they would remain there indefinitely - is for the leader to read a paragraph from the first 164 pages of The Big Book and kick off the discussion based on that reading.  The sadistic son of a bitch that was in the hot seat selected this: "Though we did not like their symptoms and the way these disturbed us, they, like ourselves, were sick, too.  We asked God to help us show them the same pity, tolerance, and patience that we would cheerfully grant a sick friend.  When a person offended, we said to ourselves: "This is a sick man.  How can I be helpful to him? God save me from being angry.  Thy will be done."

Really, really annoying.

I do have to say that I find Bill's wording here a little condescending.  Big Spiritual Seaweed gets to show love and tolerance to some poor guy who doesn't know better.  It reeks to me of pious elitism.  Look at me - I'm in recovery!  A few years ago I was taking a shot of vodka first thing in the morning to steady my nerves and now I'm going to tolerate your shortcomings?  Pretty Big of me.  I love the words "pious" and "sanctimonious."  In layman's terms?  "My shit doesn't stink."