Oh, lord: Guilty.

I don’t mean to be, I really don’t. I don’t, for example, correct other’s speech, no matter how egregious. In fact, I do worse by tempering my speech to similar ‘street talk’ language. Yet I can cross our portico and alter my speech when talking to someone with a higher degree of education (formal or savant). Most of my neighbors are ‘street smart’ types and I feel horrible if and when they hear my educated prattle. I fear that they’ll think me a snob.

I’ve dozens of other examples.

I like things ‘just so’... my coffee has to be in the form of freshly dark-roasted beans from a specific region of Sumatra and from a specific roaster; freshly ground and prepared with cold filtered water and brewed by one of two specific methods. My neurological disease, though, robs me of the ability to ‘taste,’ sometimes, and I probably couldn’t discern Sanka from Sumatra at those times.

Is the latter a form of snobbery? I don’t know.

These days the only feelings I have on my torso are on my nipples (maybe because they’re pierced? I don’t know — this rapidly progressing disease is a monster) yet I continue to purchase only silk shirts. Not out of affection or snobbery, but habit.

But.

I don’t let alternative facts slide and I’m quick to correct and argue. In my most manic/godlike episodes, I’m a know-it-all, certain that I’m smarter than any of my peers (even though I acquiesce to my perceived superiors).

I’m a mess. And I’m unstable more often than not. I can only do what I do but I try like hell to be kind.

I also look others directly in the eye even knowing that my overly-brilliant green eyes (or, now, right eye) can be unnerving.

These days I’m pursuing pure pleasure and kindness towards others. I’m finding that the two compliment one another and are in no way mutually exclusive.

But I think that I’m snobbish; or can be.