I can't sleep. I went to bed at three and it's six. I'll have to drag myself to a cafe, because truthfully it gets lonely early in the morning...sometimes I just like to look at other people's faces. I'm a little cranky but feel oddly peaceful with such little sleep.
Sometimes it's hard to be interesting at six a.m. I want to say things to that matter and think thoughts that profoundly affect the way you live your life. But the truth is I just want someone to make me some coffee, because I don't know how to use my sister's high-tech coffee maker. Did I tell you I moved in my sister? It's great.
I'm starting school again because with three degrees I hope to at least be able to pay the rent. I'm going back to to learn how to teach. Of course I'm arrogant enough to think that I can reach out to young adolescents today. I will be an English teacher, a "cool" English teacher that has them do things like write raps. Right. I listen to Light F.M. I don't know a rap from a rant from rock 'n roll.
They will be able to tell I'm an Impostor. I'm not a real cool person. Some days I don't know if I'm a real person. I wasn't cool in high school, I was geeky and weird. I interviewed a Witch in our school for the school paper. I think there were people who thought I was a witch. Sometimes I want to be a witch, but I'll settle for bitch.
Truthfully, I feel bitchy right now, this early in the morning after having such a late night. I worry that sometimes the bitchiness won't wear off even after the coffees. The last thing on this earth I want to become is bitter. Bitter old women are sad and mean and very uncool.
I wonder when the last time I wondered whether I was cool enough to be alive. Was it when I listened to an Elton John song while working out? Was it when I had a birthday party and all I wanted was for everyone to sit around getting drunk and talking instead of going to a club? I know I feel totally uncool when I go on the weighing scale.
So I guess, at this time, before the sun has risen, I wonder if I am cool enough to like myself. I use the word like instead of love, because on a base level I do love myself. But do I like myself? It's only me and me in the room right now.
I guess I'm not jumping up and down from the excitement of being me. But I guess I like myself OK, OK enough to put my inner thoughts out there in writing for everyone to examine. I must like those inner thoughts.
But you wanna know what the coolest thing about me is? I don't care if you like me.
OK, I retract that statement, that's only partially true. I want to write best-sellers and have the masses love me. But the truth is, if you don't, life goes on. The coolest people in the world were hated by many. It would be coolest if you could find a reason to hate me.
It would be totally uncool for me to find a reason to hate myself. Let's hope that never happens.