You’d rather live in the real world than in the pretend world. You’d rather have an orgasm than an epiphany. You’d rather masturbate than meditate. You’d rather eat a sandwich than talk to God. You’d rather someone give you a $20 bill than have them donate it to charity. While everyone else has their eyes focused up toward the skies, you keep your eyes on the prize.
You are too irreverent to be spiritual. You get tempted to laugh in church. When people tell you that God spoke to them, you demand to hear the voicemail message. If you sneeze and someone says, “God bless you,” you say, “Where was he when I got a flat tire last week?” When some self-righteous Bible-thumper tells you that you’re going to hell, you say, “As long as you’re not there, I’ll be OK.”
You are earthy and physical and realistic. You’d rather get your hands dirty than have your sins forgiven. You’re not one to trifle with incense and incantations—you’re all about direct action. If someone does you wrong, you don’t pray—you get revenge. For you, a spiritual experience is getting drunk and being surrounded by hot guys. You’d take that over angels and harps any day of the week—even Sundays!
You are one super-duper-practical girl. You focus on the external rather than the internal. On what the eyes can see rather than what you see when you close your eyes. On the here and now instead of the hereafter. If you can’t see it, you won’t believe it. You’re more interested in what can be measured—such as a waistline or a bank account—than on what must be accepted as a matter of faith. Yeah, it’s nice that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, but you’d rather hop in your car and drive.