Politically Correct Lefties and Politically Correct Christians and Me

On a night where I actually could get more than five hours sleep, I woke up with a little more than an hour before my alarm was supposed to begin to screech. I considered getting up and beginning the day. Then, I realized that would be stupid, so I went back to sleep. Big mistake. The entire time, I dreamed about HWMNBN, all mixed in with horrible situations with one of my favorite female students I’ve ever had, that the wall separating my classroom from the younger SIED classroom (which operates very differently than mine [loudly]) was taken down, and of Dunkyn stuck in the middle of the street while dogs all around him were getting hit by cars and I was unable to get to him, knowing it was just a matter of time. The entire time this dream played out, I knew it was a dream. It almost made it worse, I couldn’t figure out to get it to stop or how to wake up, and I was disgusted with myself for dreaming up such scenarios. Horrible.
Then, I woke up to find a countless number of updates on Facebook expressing disgust with the American people for rejoicing in the death of bin Laden—likening it to being the same as he was—reveling in death. And/Or posts asking God to help them be gracious in their feelings toward this demon dressed as human [my words, not theirs]. I’m sure it’s the Godly thing, or is at least supposed to me, but it sickens me. Are we really going to waste time and energy with guilt over our joy of his death (of which I’m still not convinced—really, really hope I’m wrong) and feel the need to ask forgiveness of God for our feelings toward him and ask for a compassionate spirit for him? Really? While I know none of us are perfect and all sin is equal (however, I don’t believe that at all. Feel free to covet something of mine, have lustful thoughts, steal my money—don’t kill my family), I, for one, would have no trouble pushing the down button on the elevator for that atrocity of flesh.
Maybe my evil and vindictive spirit is what brought on the bad dreams. Maybe, I prove myself to be no better than bin Laden. Well, if you feel like that—add me to your list so you can feel guilty about judging me and ask for an injection of compassion for my soul.