Conversation # 1

7 am: in front of mirror and sink, toothbrush in hand, hair wet, errant bags under eyes.

Me: Everyday feels the same?

Self: Here we go!

Me: Don’t be like that. It is too early.

Self: Let me guess. I will be blessed by one of your standard morning outbursts, an angst riddled, existential, soliloquy that goes something like this, “Everyday is the same. Is this all there is to life? How could I have traded passion, spontaneity, and chaos, for order, practicality, and boredom? To tell the truth I would rather just clean our teeth and move on to getting dressed.

Me: Why are you so ornery this morning?

Self: I am tried of playing supportive, self-help cheerleader to your dower neurosis.

Me: If this you being supportive, I would hate to see you being critical.

Self: Spit.

Me: What?

Self: Spit, or else you will gag on the spittle and toothpaste. I don’t want to throw up again this morning.

Spit, continue brushing

Me: It’s just that, I never thought things would be so predictable.

Self: Do you think you are original?

Me: What?

Self: Do you think that pinning over the loss of youthful depravity, debauchery, and decadence is your invention?

Spit/Brush

Self: Because it’s not. If you still need me here to tell you what a great life you have, and how lucky you are, then maybe you are not as well off as I sell you to be.

Me: What if I know how lucky I am? What if I appreciate everything in my life, but still find room to wonder what else there is?

Self: What if? What if? Find speculate. Who cares? Yes, you could be rafting down a canoe in the Congo right now, or planting olive tress in Palestine. You could be doing anything you want, but the life you live is not an accident. It is a series of very carefully thought-out decisions. So instead of contemplating the possibilities, why don’t you ponder your reality?

Me: Why is it that whenever people question themselves, they are inundated with answers? I am not saying there is anything wrong with my life. I am totally happy, but am I not allowed to doubt my happiness even while I enjoy it. I would doubt my sorrow the same way.

Self: I just think you over think everything.

Me: But I enjoy over thinking. I find comfort in my neurosis. It makes me feel that I am getting my money’s worth out of every thought. When I think aloud, you offer solutions, when really solutions are not what I seek. I just need the opportunity to flush out my uncertainties.

Self: Then why am I here?

Me: It would be awfully lonely here if I didn’t have you to bounce these ideas off.

Self: Spit. We are going to be late for school…