Who am I, Really?

The end of summer, and afflicted with this headache that will not quit, has made me a bit reflective.

September is not one of my favorite months of the year--and most anyone who knows me knows that this is true. Aside from marking the end of summer, it is also my birth month. And so, each September I am confronted anew with my own mortality and the sad realization that I am a twenty-something trapped in a fifty-something's body. Try as I might, I just can't see the upside in the equation.

I do not enjoy discovering new things that I simply cannot do as well as I used to be able to do them. Usually these things are athletic in nature, and so far I have resisted the temptation to actually damage myself proving that "I'm as good once as I ever was," or however the stupid country song says it.

I am just too competitive.

Each passing day, it seems, calls me to reexamine myself and to discover that the person that I am is not the person that I thought I was and that I hardly recognize the face looking back at me in the mirror.

I hate mirrors--have I ever told you that?

If you want a cold piece of reality--look in the mirror. Ugh. You cannot even photoshop a mirror.

So with all of the changes--it is true I'm not the same today as I was yesterday, except in my mind. I'm a legend in my own mind. I am who I was but not who I am. Just as soon as I catch up to who I am, I become who I was again.

A never ending pursuit of reality.

And then again each morning I am left with the question: Who am I, really?


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