I think I might be in love with myself. Not in the inspiring way, like that poster that reads: “In a society that profits from your self-doubt, liking yourself is an act of rebellion.” More in a Kanye West kind of way. (Please listen to ‘I Thought About Killing You’ if you’d like further enlightenment on Kanye’s style of self-love.)
I realised I was Kanye after I went on a date last night and had a wonderful time. The person I was with was alright, but I really felt like it was me that was wonderful. I listened; gave witty retorts; asked non-probing yet relevant questions. I was the perfect date, and it made me very happy.
Until just now when I realised how much I love myself and wondered if I would ever become famous enough for someone to paint a massive mural of me kissing me (as exists of Kanye). Now, I’m a bit sad about being a horrible person. But also, of course, happy about how fantastic I am. It’s very confusing.
I get a similar feeling after interviews that have gone well. You can get a real buzz of satisfaction after half an hour spent talking to another human being exclusively about yourself.
That’s not what my date was, but the satisfied feeling is the same because it’s not pleasure at having learned something new or met someone new; it’s pleasure at a job well done. I allow myself the smug satisfaction after a good interview because the person I was speaking to did literally ask for it. But we can probably agree it’s a somewhat repugnant way to feel after a date.
So I’m going to change who I am. I want to somehow stay completely dazzling, but also learn humility. How hard can it be? I’ll let you know in next week’s column if this project still holds my attention.
P.S. If you’re a regular reader maybe you were a fan of the mechanic extraordinaire that I was seeing and regularly making reference to here. We are sadly no longer an item. That isn’t cycling news but is that really what you’re reading my column for?