Self: I see you’re back from vacation.
Self: It’s been almost a week now, right?
Me: Yeah, something like that.
Self: You don’t do much here, do you?
Me: I’ve been reading.
Self: And sleeping.
Self: Like, a LOT.
Me: I’m tired.
Self: But you don’t do anything.
Me: So? I’m still tired. I have jet lag.
Self: Yeah, but not really, right? I mean, it’s only three hours’ difference between here and there.
Me: It’s enough to throw me for a loop.
Self: So…..what’s wrong with you?
Me: Nothing. Why? What’s wrong with you?
Self: Nothing. Just wondering why you’re so boring.
Me: I’m not boring. I’m readjusting to being here after having a magical time at home.
Self: I see. You’d think maybe you’d come back happy since you had a good time at home.
Me: You would?
Self: Yeah. I would, anyway. You come back from a great vacation and now all you do is sulk? Normally when my friends come back from vacation they’re all smiles.
Me: Well….? I guess I’m the exception to the rule. It’s hard to come back this time. I don’t know why.
Self: I’m giving you until Sunday to get all the suck out of your system. I’m getting sick of you, quite frankly, and if this is the way you’re going to spend the next six months, I’m ashamed.
Me: Fine then. Until Sunday.
Self: You realize tomorrow is Friday.
Self: Fridays are generally days when people aren’t as boring as they are from Monday to Thursday. And by “people” I mean “you.”
Me: What are you saying?
Self: You should go out.
Me: Fine. Maybe I will.
Self: Please. Please, no “maybe.” Please go out. You are pathetic.
Me: Listen! This was my first few days back at work! And then I had my nose stuck in a book*—a really, really fabulous book—-and I was interested in reading! That does not make me pathetic! It makes me rather intelligent.
Self: Have you finished the book, for the love of God?
Me: Actually, yes. I just now turned the final page.
Self: Is that why you’re crying?
Me: (pause) It was a good book.
Self: Do you normally cry when books end?
Me: No. This was an exceptional book. I’d let you borrow it if you weren’t being such an asshole to me right now.
Self: Maybe I don’t want to read it. Books never interested me all that much.
Self: No, really. I’ve always been more interested in talking with people and going out and doing fun things. You know, like having a life. Needing a reason to take a shower everyday instead of whenever the mood strikes you. Instead of coming home and sitting for hours on the couch with my face in a book and eating shredded carrot salads and long-grain rice.
Me: Ah–so you noticed I finally cooked something.
Self: Oh, yes. Congratulations. I see why you’re so exhausted tonight. All that boiling water sure can drain a person.
Me: Dude, at least it’s not popcorn.
* (The Liars’ Club by Mary Karr. Easily placing within the top three books I’ve ever read.)