The Wednesday Worrier - Am I the Movie?

If I'm being honest with myself, which I rarely am, I'm pretty sure I live my life as if the deep seeded dream of being famous will someday manifest itself in one gigantic Truman Show reveal, and I'm the star.

This would also help explain a few things. Like, despite how hard I look, there seems to be no evidence that anyone still listens to Dave Matthews Band - The writing team just couldn't get past Satellite. Or why Hollywood can't do anything but remake versions of movies that are of the, "sure, I saw once as a kid. And sure it was pretty good but why are we doing this again?" Variety (I'm looking at you Jumanji).  Simple answer: they are busy enough trying to complete the screenplay of my life. There isn't enough time to write a movie within a movie.

Yet, despite the joys of imagining that I really am the most important thing happening in the world around me, a single fear is growing. A fear that sweeps that sweet daydream aside to make room for another fictitious reality where that perception of myself is an ill formed construct, incorrectly projected onto a simulated world, the subject of which is a more beautifully chiseled literary cliche destined for clean cut character development all within a series of predictable conflicts and 70 second montages and I, in fact, am not the star of the show. A world where I turn out to be a side character in my own movie. And that, Mom and Dad, is why I have so many self-confidence workbooks.

All I know is that every time I listen to "Friday I'm in Love" by the Cure, as I walk around Mid-Town, I'm pretty sure I'm going to run into Kate Hudson's Character. But now, instead of her meeting "Mr. Right", I'm pretty sure our chance encounter is where I'm going to get friend-zoned with all the awkward discomfort of a Michael Cera character. Rot in Hell, Kate Hudson. Rot in Hell.