Come on — do I really ‘gotta be me?’ That’s getting tiresome

Do you ever get tired of being you?

Not bored so much as filled with ennui about an overfamiliarity with your corporeal and cerebral being.

I know I do. Honest, I get tired of being me because I am so familiar to me. I’ve carted ‘me’ around for all the years of my life. Sometimes it’s worked and sometimes – I’m prepared to suggest – it hasn’t. Oh, I’ve worked on the big stuff that maybe stifled where I was going for a while, and I’ve been pretty successful in those realms.

No, it’s with the little stuff. The mundanities. The old “there I go again” responses to the events of my days of my life.

I can look at myself as I was when I was a child. Little bespectacled jerk I was. At least that was how I saw myself. That’s me on the right of the picture, in case you had any doubts. The other two kids are my brothers.

So, I look more to the guy I was when I graduated from university. Not bad looking, pretty dynamic, and feeling pumped about being on the threshold of my life. I’d seize this sucker by the testes and damn it I’d make my mark. I was the ‘new’ Ian and he was doing pretty good.

And, the new Ian didn’t have a bad time of it, all told. Albeit there were glitches and genuine heartbreaks along the way, but that’s called ‘life’ and must be accepted, and I do. I’ve also had some excellent adventures and met some remarkably interesting individuals with varying degrees of intimacy, including some of them old ‘fun’ kinds of intimacy. And I now have (I think) reasonable health; a nice home, a lovely wife, a wonderful dog, and I live in a country that, while it may piss me off at times, is free and safe. I could be in Syria, after all.

So, if you’re construing this as thinking I’m feeling sorry for myself, it’s nothing of the sort. It’s more like I’ve become tired of not being able to escape ‘me’ sometimes. Hard to explain.

I was thinking of a nonsense verse I was repeating in my head the other day when I was doing lunch dishes. I realized I have been repeating this verse since I was a young kid in elementary school. I can’t offer it to you right now because I am not doing lunch dishes, so you see, that’s the trigger. My point is, I’ve been doing this all my life, even though I’m not particularly OC. But, it’s still a bit of a ritual.

I sing in the shower. Many people do. What I realized a while ago is that I sing virtually the same songs in the shower every freaking day, and maybe I have all my life. They’re not even particularly good songs, they’re just stuck there — every damn day.

And then I have a chilling thought. I realize I am the same geeky little bugger I was when I was that four-eyes kid. I may be taller and more lined, and only need specs for reading now. I’m also a little more self-assured and find it much easier to talk to girls, but I still haven’t changed in essence. Talk about being in touch with your inner child. I still am my inner child.

Maybe we all are. What about you?

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4 responses to “Come on — do I really ‘gotta be me?’ That’s getting tiresome

  1. Now that’s not normal at all, says the girl who counts in her head any time water is running…

    Pearl

  2. I’ll have to check myself; I never really noticed. But I discovered one friend holds her breath while crossing bridges, and another tries to levitate going over train tracks. Both of them while in a car. Every time. Without fail. No matter who is in the car with them. It’s a little… disconcerting…

    • I’m glad your breath-holding friend doesn’t have to cross the Golden Gate on a regular basis. That could be more lethal than jumping off. Now, about your levitating friend — does she actually succeed? I’d like to know how to do that.

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