alone with myself and myself

i had a long talk with myself last night. it went a little something like this:

 

boy, cara, you are some piece of work.

do you mean that in a good or bad way, id?

honey, i mean it in every way there is.

why, what did i do now?

it’s what you ain’t done, sugar, that bothers me.

 listen, i only have two hands, you know. i can only handle so much.

if i was talking about your hands, i’d have to point out that they’re empty, and have been for a long time. but i’m not. i’m talking about your head, and how it’s been too full. you need to clear that out, girl. it’s not doing you any favors.

id, what is this nonsense you’re spouting?

superego, what are you doing here?  i thought you were on vacation.

i never go away completely. you know that. now, what’s the problem?

id thinks i should let my hair down, go crazy, and submit to my basest desires, right id?

yeah, that’s about it. ya gotta admit, superego, she’s a bit, well, stuffy. and i haven’t even touched the control issues yet…

you leave that alone. that’s my territory.

i’m just saying…

okay, stop it you two. if you can’t get along i’m going to have to banish you both.

as if you could.

right. stuck in the middle. story of my life.

stop wallowing. you’re smart, talented, and for the most part morally sound.

and sweetie, you got what it takes. that indefinable zing that gets things goin’, if you know what i mean…

so what’s the problem again?  i mean, if i’m all that?

you’re so busy contemplating action that you don’t ever actually go out and do anything.

i hate to say it, but i think id is right.

let me get this straight. you’re agreeing with id?  unprecedented.

with some careful planning and certain rules in place, it could be just what you need.

listen to you. planning?  rules?  is that any way to let go?

without some guidelines set up things could get messy.

yeah, baby. bring it.

stop. just stop. superego, i can’t carefully plan abandon. that’s absurd.

oh please, i do it all the time.

and id, i’m not about to turn into a hedonistic goddess at the drop of some undies.

well why the hell not?  mmmm, undies…

can we please stay focused?  it seems the concern at hand is that i’m… i’m not…

exactly.

…enough. …too much.

exactly.

how do i, i don’t know, fix it?

lover, it can’t be fixed. it is what it is. 

then what do i do?

don’t do. just be.

what the hell kind of advice is that?  i thought you were supposed to be pragmatic.

you’re forgetting my minor in philosophy.

shit.

exactly.

okay, so i’m back to where i started. where was that, again?

in the middle. what delicious possibilities…

can it, id. wait a minute, does this have anything to do with my birthday?

in a way. and while some might think it gauche, i quite adore the fact that you’re still trying to figure yourself out.

yeah, most people stop way earlier than you.

is that so?  well, bully for me.

no need to be snarky, dear. that was a compliment.

oh. sorry. not used to that.

will you get a load of the humility on this chick?  i must repeat: you need to clear that out, girl. it’s not doing you any favors.

okay. so i guess we’ll just leave it where it’s at and try again later. i’m spent.

that’s what a good internal musing will do to you.

besides, i’m almost out of cigs.

you should think about quitting, you know.

hey, burn ‘em if ya got ‘em, babe.

and for what it’s worth, i appreciate both of your… efforts.

for what it’s worth, you should.

snarkiness abounds.

‘night, id. ‘night, superego.

pleasant dreams, child.

pleasant, schmeasant. hot, wild crazy dreams… with hot, wild crazy men… engaging in hot, wild crazy…

id!

sorry. night, cutie. till tomorrow…

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