Me, Myself and I- A Conversation for One

“Good morning Sandi!”

“Huh! What’s so good about it?”

“My, my, aren’t we in a good mood?”

“Well, you get to stay in here all day and don’t have to face the rest of the world!”

“You think I like being trapped in here? I only get to come out whenever you’re around. And let me tell you, you aren’t always such great company.”

“Well maybe if you looked half-way decent, I might be in a better mood.”

“Ummmm….hello! Me, reflection…you, reality.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“What is up with you today?”

“I’m fat, I’m ugly and I’m poor.”

“I don’t happen to agree with you on the first two points, and I can’t really help you with the last one.”

“What good are you then?”

“You know what? I think I’m just going to leave!”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Well, at least that got a smile out of you. You’re wrong, you know.”

“About what?”

“Being fat and ugly.”

“But you do agree I’m poor?”

“That was not the point! Chris thinks you’re beautiful. He likes your shape too.”

“What can I say? My husband is blind.”

“He is not. Don’t you always get mad at him when he says he’s fat and ugly?”

“But he’s not!”

“And neither are you!”

“Pshah!”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me. What about the days that you think you look ok or even pretty good?”

“I’m delusional?”

“No, you’re not.”

“But look. I have all these little, fine lines on my forehead and near my eyes. This stupid brown sunspot took up root on my cheek. My right eye sits slightly higher than my left one, and let’s not ever forget, the scar, the uneven top lip and the flat face. Stupid birth defect.”

“I thought you didn’t care about the scar anymore?”

“I don’t care about it like I did when I was a teenager, but it’s still something wrong with my face.”

“But you’re not a teenager anymore…hence the fine lines. You’re 38, and I happen to think you look pretty darn good for someone of your advanced years.”

“You’re 38 too, you know?”

“And I look maaaahvelous, darling!”

“Now you’re delusional.”

“But I made you laugh. And look at those beautiful teeth.”

“Alright, stop. So, I’m not an ogre.”

“See what happens when you smile and you laugh. You feel better about yourself.”

“I may not be an ogre, but I’m still poor.”

“Then go write your best seller. Go get an agent for your children’s series. Go follow your passion.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I never said it was. But it’s not going to get any easier by you standing here talking to me.”

“I know.”

“So, go. I’ll be here when you need another kick in the butt.”

“You always are.”

“And I always will be. Now, go. Write.”




Word Cont: 473