Me: A Satirical Search For Identity
I woke up one morning and noticed I didn't feel like myself. I didn't feel grounded or vital or real. It was like I was floating, with my physical body on the ground but my mind a hundred feet away. Was I even myself anymore? I wasn't sure. But one thing I knew: I couldn't go on like this, even for a day. I had to have an identity, a way to label myself and present myself to the world. Because isn't that what living is all about? How others perceive you and refer to you? There's a points system all based on identity, and if I couldn't define mine, I would be, well, pointless. So I got up, got dressed (in as neutral of clothing as possible) and went out to search...for me. I decided to stop by the coffee shop first, give myself a jolt of energy to sustain me on my quest. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that the barista would need a name for the order. Shoot, what was I going to call my little lost self? Looking quickly around the shop, I spied th