There comes a point in your life when you stop trying to find yourself, because you've found yourself. It usually happens right after you realize you can't get rid of yourself.
Yes, there I am, you say. That's me.
And suddenly, the secret infrastructure of your personality stops being this significantly mysterious puzzle that you were paying numerous therapists, psychics and hair dressers good money to help unravel, and instead becomes the car that you're going to be driving for the rest of your life, through the rest of your life.
What you see is all you get. No more revelations. No more surprises.
It happened to me. I was sort of watching myself go through my days and I had the strangest feeling like I was watching reruns. Didn't I use that same excuse the last time my mother called? Don't I always decide to give up coffee in the spring, and then last about two weeks without it before I start filling my tacos with refried espresso beans? And when am I going to admit that my filing cabinet is just a personal euphemism for office landfill?
Well, my first reaction upon finding myself was that I actually started to relax. Like, I've got all the Woad moves down. I can coast a little. Live life without clutching the steering wheel so hard. Shift gears from 'control freak' to 'auto pilot'.
I started looking at other people just a little bit smugly. Especially artists. Desperate losers, I thought. I mean look at them trying to figure themselves out. There's nothing to figure out. There are no surprises. Ha!
But then I started to develope this annoying little voice inside my head. A voice that was always going, 'I knew you were going to say that. I knew you were going to avoid doing that'. And it was always right.
Well, at first this little voice just commented on everything that I was doing as I was doing it. 'I knew you were going to write a story about me.'
But then it started commenting on everything that I was going to be doing the next day. And then the next week. And then the next year. And soon it was as if this little voice had managed to get a hold of every single day of the rest of my life, and remove from each one the gift wrapping paper. No more surprises.
I found myself becoming jealous around the confused. They didn't know how good they had it that they didn't know they didn't have it. But of course if they did know they didn't have it then they'd have it and they'd be like me, wishing they didn't have it. Oh, why couldn't I be confused.
And then, one day, I was driving down highway 95 south, heading towards my friend's house in Rhode Island. I was also suffering from P.M.Extra which is the worst time for me to be drinking coffee. But I had stopped for a coffee just like I knew I would. I even knew exactly how much I was going to regret it. And of course, before I'd even driven halfway there, I had to go. Unlike many other women, when I'm premenstrual I don't retain fluids, I emancipate them.
So I pulled off the next exit and into a gas station. I knew that for gas station bathrooms you had to ask for a key. But I always checked the door first just in case you didn't need a key, even though you always did. And, as usual, I was right. The sign said, 'Ask for key'. Except in this case the last person to use the bathroom had decided to prop it open with a rock. So I went right in. Big mistake.
No sooner had I gotten down to business when I heard the key turn in the lock and the door started to open.
"YO!" I said. I had a quick glimpse of high heeled sandles and vermilion gloss toenails before the door shut again.
'Knew you'd say 'Yo'','nattered the little voice. 'You always say 'Yo' when you want to act tough, like you didn't grow up in Brookline. You always-'
"Will you shut up," I said. "We have a red alert situation here! Yo! Someone's in here!"
"Someone's in there?" said a voice outside the door.
And then a second voice said, "Well, we have the key. So you shouldn't even be in there."
She said it with such conviction like it was a basic law of physics I was violating. Like every action causes an equal and opposite reaction, e=mc squared, and if someone is standing outside a gas station bathroom with a key, then someone else could not exist inside the bathroom.
Well, I couldn't think of anything to say to that. I failed quantum mechanics in college. So I just said 'Yo!' again.
"Yo, yourself!" snapped the women outside the door. "We have the key so you shouldn't even be in there."
Well, by then I was quite finished, and I was also quite mad.
'Well, of course you are' said the little voice as I washed my hands. 'And you're thinking that you really should say something to these women about how rude they were to you. But you won't. You know you won't. You'll just slink out the door and say 'bathroom's all yours.'
"Yeah, whatever" I said, reaching for the doorknob. But just then I noticed something that I don't usually notice. I noticed that there was only one roll of toilet paper left in the bathroom. And that it was kind of the same size as my purse.
'Hey! What are you doing!' said the little voice.
"Oh, just rearranging some matter in the universe," I replied, zipping up my purse. And then I flung open the door and said "The bathroom's all yours, my sisters."
Two ridiculously overdressed women stared at me oddly as I strolled back to my car and drove off. A few moments later, as I reached the on ramp to 95 south, I figured that just about now those two women in that bathroom would be experiencing the exact same thing that I had just experienced in there, a few moments ago.
Surprise!