Black Sheep

I like being at work. I have a lot of fun with the people there. I feel productive, am part of a team and am expected to do my share of the work. For the most part, despite all our differences or possibly because of them, we respect each other.

Getting to and from work is a different story. In general, I assume people feel about their job as I do mine. I often wonder however, if some people think too highly about themselves or the supposed importance of their job.

Take the guy in the suit. How much time does he take in the morning to put on that stupid tie? Does it really help him do his job or is he just trying to look important? Take that construction worker or that lady… what do they do? How do they feel about their jobs?

Anyway, I like being at church or surrounded by people who share the same values. It is almost always a more friendly environment.

I admit I do not have as much fun with these people because I perceive, albeit wrongly I’m sure, that they are better than me or trying to be. Better in the sense that Ned Flanders is better than his neighbor, Homer Simpson.

I also don’t feel as respected as I do at work. Nor am I so respectful to other professions. I suppose it is harder to relate to someone that you only see on a weekly basis and are not familiar with the struggles or accomplishments they experience on a daily basis.

I like being at home or around family. There I am known and respected, perhaps for different reasons. Similar values are often shared while in my case, others are repulsed.

One of my little brothers is often refereed to the black sheep, but increasingly over the years I often notice the similarities they all have and those I lack.

There is a list of differences I could note: For years I have resided on the opposite side of the country as everyone else. I don’t watch the same shows or listen to the same music. I admit I do not even embrace All things Disney as my family does.

If anyone is the black sheep. it must be me.