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"Excuse ME? I've been waiting here 10 minutes now! This is RIDICULOUS!"

"I'm sorry, Sir. We're very busy today. Someone will be with you soon. Please wait your turn," the postal clerk replied in a polite yet clipped manner. He turned back to me and with an unnecessary apology, resumed our transaction.

Mr. Center-of-the-Universe, screamed, "You morons! I have other things I need to do rather than wait here all day..."

He gained nothing. The clerk's face tensed and he merely glared up at the man and then his softened and he smiled at me, "Will there be anything else for you today, Ma'am?" I shook my head no and thanked him and added, "Good luck..." with a sympathetic smile.

Between three different freeway bullies (you know the type-they ride perilously on your bumper to intimidate you to get out of their way), the lady in the grocery store who seemed to think the 7 items I had on the conveyor was going to take more time than she could bear to spend in line to purchase her Diet Dr. Pepper and deli sandwich and managed to coax me into letting cut in front of me, and Mr. Center of the Universe, I had had my fill of narcissism for the day. I must have shown my disgust because on my way out of the post-office, a woman whispered conspiratorially to me: "Some people..." as she shook her head in disbelief. I smiled at her and said, "Really now, eh?" and added, "Everyone seems to think they're the flippin' center of the universe these days."

If you grew up in '70s as I did, you probably remember that we were all encouraged to build our self-esteem. The one I sought counseling during a rough spot in my life, the therapist handed me a workbook during our first session, giving me instructions to complete one assignment per day. I can't remember the exact title of the book, but the purpose was to build up what the therapist referred as my low self-esteem which was in her opinion at the core of my problems. The first exercise was to look in the mirror and repeat aloud, "I am special. I am a person of value. I matter." I gave it one or two more days and had finally had about enough stupidity.

The next week, I brought the book with me to my appointment and laughed, pointing at the book, I said, "This is dumb..." "It really does help," she replied. "I'm sure it does," I said to appease her, "But it really isn't for me. Thank you, though..." She admonished me with her professional guarantee that unless I raised my lagging self-esteem it would always be an obstacle for me and I listened

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