Where was I? “I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you.” This is a joke, yes? Surely, I wouldn’t actually kill you. I don’t have a history of killing people, or anything larger than a germ. I’ve killed billions of germs, however, and that adds up. Just this morning, I used Listerine like you wouldn’t believe. Perhaps, in lieu of actual death, I could simply aim my morning breath in your general direction. That’s probably good for a wrinkled nose or two. Grrrrrrrrr.

In case you were actually wondering, I wasn’t on a spy mission or in hiding because of the fruition of any nefarious plans. I was only sulking. Thursday afternoon, I got into an argument with someone. Although I had truth, logic, and any amount of documentary evidence lined up behind me, it was no match for the petulant screaming of my opponent . . . the petulant screaming of senselessly outrageous claims, incidentally.

I must hasten to point out that this was a business argument, not a political one, although I realize that I have just described the entire debate between Democrats and Republicans. (Guess which side is which!) I have been sulking because of how quickly I sank to his level, losing my cool, raising my voice, and hurling out accusations as fast as he could make them.

This depresses me. I’ve worked so hard to become a better person. This is relative, of course; I was already a pretty darn-good person. But a key to evolving beyond the primitive animal core of humanity is to not let the ego dictate one’s behavior. Thursday afternoon, my ego was running the show, and I’m only now wrestling it back under control. On Friday, when I met Zenchick for lunch, I was barely able to function. I have given up on my quest for enlightenment, I told her: if after all the work I’ve done, I can still be so easily goaded by incivility, there must be no hope. Luckily, she talked me down from the ledge. Or maybe it was the turkey potstickers that talked me down from the ledge. Or maybe I wasn’t on a ledge; maybe I was on a chair. Turkey potstickers can be awfully persuasive, though.

I think one of my chief issues in life is coping with a lack of genuine appreciation for my considerable efforts on the part of others. The argument essentially consisted of a person I was actively trying to help accusing me of complicity in sabotage of his business. But it’s the ego that requires appreciation in order to function; good works are supposed to be their own karmic reward. The gist of the matter is, even though I was entirely right, I completely blew it. The repercussions could be staggering, and I don’t seem to be in a mental state to deal with them. But I have no choice but to coax my ego back into the cellar of my soul (where a night chef is waiting to feed it omelets), clear a bit of the wreckage, and try to pick up where I dove off the evolutionary trail.