There used to be seven deadly sins. Now there are 14. This is worrying because of the original seven, the only ones that I don’t commit daily, nay hourly, are gluttony, greed and envy. Pride, lust and sloth are my bywords, and anger takes up half my waking hours.

I forgive myself, being like all Canadians at the tail end of the most suffocating, grey-skied heartless hopeless winter in years; SAD-inspired anger doesn’t begin to describe it. I am capable of kicking the black-crusted banks of former snow that mark every street of my city (Toronto), staring at the Texas Tea ooze that runs from their base, the cap of fermenting cigarette butts, condoms and roadkill that coats them like seven-minute frosting and personally hating the mayor that promised to clear them and failed to do so.

I like you, Mr. Mayor, but I call them “DavidMillerbanks.” Did you ever think you’d live in an era when Canada couldn’t shift its snow? It makes me seethe, and if this is how I feel about old snow, just imagine what I think about the prime minister.

He’s suing the Opposition. In a functioning democracy. He’s supposed to be demolishing them electorally and instead he’s honing his Examination for Discovery and calculating his pain and suffering? Actually, that’s funny. Wonderful, one less thing to be angry about.

New social sins

This was the sorry progress I was making on the deadly sins when the Vatican piled on seven new “social” sins. Yes, the Catholic Church is lecturing me âe””Thou shalt not kid thyself,” as the commentator Mark Morford put it âe” but as an enthusiastic ironist and atheist, I’ll refrain from comment.

Sins nouveau, courtesy of Bishop Gianfranco Girotti of the Apostolic Penitentiary, here goes.

1. “Bioethical’ violations such as birth control. Guilty.

2. “Morally dubious” experiments such as stem cell research. I have no truck with embryos myself, but if this includes planning to kill my neighbour’s small yappy-type dog with little balls of foie gras, guilty, very much so.

3. Drug abuse. Meursault hangovers, guilty and proud of it.

4. Polluting the environment. Haven’t yet phased out the toxic household cleaners, still fertilize lawn, press Print button too often. Very, very guilty.

5. Contributing to widening divide between rich and poor. If that means studiedly earning money, feminist guilt in the first degree.

6. Excessive wealth. According to my last week’s mail âe” from the World Wildlife Fund, Friends of the CBC, Daily Bread Food Bank, Médecins sans Frontières, the Martha Hall Findlay election campaign, the federal NDP, McSweeney’s, NewsBiscuit, Adbusters, net-a-porter.com, The Leprosy Mission, Saxony Capital Management, brucespringsteen.net, Sephora.com and the terrifying Brookstone pointless housewares catalogue âe” I am guilty of money possession and should lighten my load by sending them lots immediately, and they take PayPal.

7. Creating poverty. According to offspring âe” jeans, I’m thinking EarnestSewn, of course they all look different, you sound like dad âe” guilty and it’s your job to feel that way.

That’s 11 sins and I didn’t even leave the house. But Bear Stearns executives walked away rich after subprime gambling that would shame William Bennett, and Dick Cheney spent the Iraq War’s fifth anniversary fishing off the Sultan of Oman’s royal yacht. Why am I whipping myself with nails?

Alternative list

Here’s my list of deadly social sins for other people.

1. Bibliomiseria. Do not ask me when my book is out. When I tell you, do not respond: “Can you give me a copy?” Or “I don’t know why anyone writes books in Canada. What a waste of time. A best-seller is what, 5,000 copies?” Especially when it is 7:30 a.m. and we are about to chat on CBC Radio’s The Current and I will tell you that you have short man syndrome and I will feel deep inside myself another terrible remark crawling up my esophagus, fighting for release. The subsequent conversation will degrade us both. “I don’t buy books. I’m fighting the capitalist system.”

2. Moral intrusion. If you are against gay marriage, don’t do it. And don’t tell other people not to do it. It’s not your business.

3. Canine couture. Do not dress your dog so expensively that it outshines you. We’ve been through this before. When he dies, do not knit his fur into a sweater and wear it. I hope you’re torn apart by feral cats when you take your fragrant cardy for its nightly walk.

4. Cheerlessness. Don’t invite me to a Happy Holidays feminist activism party at your home and greet me with “Oh, you’re wearing perfume? I’m allergic to perfume” and back off as if I had rats in my hair. This is why feminists have a hard time attracting young women to the cause of equal rights, good times etc. Pretend you like my Un Jardin Sur Le Nil even if it gives you hives.

5. Unesthetica. If you are male and over 78, don’t flirt with salesgirls while wearing a Louis Vuitton baseball cap. It does not make you look “kicky.” They are humouring you. If you are a female aspiring model, don’t stand in a pose at a traffic light with one leg dragging negligently behind you, like a disabled racehorse. I will think you need help crossing the street. We will both be embarrassed when you change legs.

6. English crimes. “It’s” means “it is” while “its” is everything else. Hitler’s first name was not spelled Adolph. Lightbulbs are not “flourescent,” and you don’t “laugh all the way to the bank,” you cry. If you are reading Eat, Pray, Love, don’t tell anyone. Same for any pink novels with the word “girl” in the title. Same for Michael Ondaatje’s Divisadero. Sorry about that.

7. Erasure. Don’t pretend the Bush era didn’t happen or that it’s over yet. It happened, you were present, it’s all on tape. You are scarred in your soul, just like the rest of us. And maybe there’s nothing wrong with that.