You don't know me. I'm okay with that. This is my search for insignificance.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Meet the People Who Don't Think About Me
Have you ever walked in a crowd of people and considered just how much they are not thinking about you? I have. Reality is eye opening.
See, I wake up in the morning, either because I can't sleep or because I stupidly responsibly set my alarm the night before. And as I yawn and stretch and attempt to figure out what day it is, my thoughts soon turn to...
That's right. I sense my hunger. I know exercise is needed. What will I wear today? Will anyone be close enough to notice if I shaved? And just before my to-do list comes rushing at me with the force of a monster truck, I know I need to head to the bathroom. So there is no time to be hitting the snooze.
My first dozen thoughts are all about me. Which, by my math, will equal more thoughts than everyone else in the world, combined, thinks about me all day. It's not even close. And it shouldn't be close.
Because it's not about me. Not that this truth will keep me from thinking about myself for the next hour or so as I actually get around. Will people appreciate the flavor of deodorant I chose? Will people like how I coordinate my shoes with my outfit? Will people notice my chiseled muscles and my finely manicured face?
Like I said, I'm quite ridiculous.
But every once in a while I will be walking somewhere, be it a store, sidewalk or any other place groups of people who don't care about me congregate. And I'll notice them not noticing me. Weird, I'll think to myself. Perhaps if these people got to know me, they would pay me more attention.
Then my face starts to hurt, as reality comes up and gives me a good smack. They wouldn't. They shouldn't. And someday I will stop putting in so much effort to get them to do otherwise. I will. I should.