guilt tripin'

the theme of late is the remains of a Roman Catholic upbring: Guilt, with a capital G. those damn guilt muscles were exercised to the form of an olympic athlete. i remember this hellish math teacher from grade 7 who guilted me out for losing a test before my parents had a chance to sign it. she would not except a note in place of the signed test. even though i got an A on it. for weeks, she laid on the heat. and yet, who did i voluteer to help after school, who did i make breakfast for in home ec? hellish math teacher, of course. i had nightmares about this woman, i kid you not. guilt causes so much unnecessary stress and really if you do somthing because you were guilted into it, doesn't that undo the niceness of it in the first place? i say, down with guilt. life's too short. it is not like we will turn into karla holmolka if we don't have it in our lives. i'm going to set my guilt-dar to sensitive and fight the urges as hard as i can. anyone with comical stories of guilt wrecking havoc or advice on smashing it out of your life, please do tell.