My life. Your hell.

(Originally published 12/12/2005)

My friend JC walked out of my bathroom yesterday with a startling revelation. "You are not alone," he said. "There is someone else in this apartment with you."

Boo!

Perhaps I should have investigated his supernatural credentials before jumping to conclusions, but it was much easier to assume he had a sixth sense. Maybe he Tivos "Crossing Over with John Edwards" or has seen "Ghost" over twenty times. Regardless, I began to wonder if indeed I was sharing a space with a spirit.

The first question would obviously be why? What horrible thing had this person done when alive to be cursed with watching me for eternity? I’m assuming they were an axe murderer who kicked puppies. Why else would someone be chained to me forever, watching me sit in front of the television with my finger in my nose or breaking down in tears when I can’t find my house keys? I don’t lead the most exciting life. The only thing more boring than actually being me would be having to watch me be me. Even I would consider this to be a version of hell, right up there with an eternity of doing ab exercises or trying to explain how to use a computer to an old person.

I also have to consider what exactly this spirit has seen. Beyond the standard embarassments of privacy violation like unknowingly having an audience when I masturbate or poop, I wonder if it was present during other recent moments. Was it here when I practiced my Oscar speech in front of the mirror, clutching that bag of sugar in leu of my statuette? Has it seen me eating tuna right out of the can or digging through the trash looking for the remote control? Was it watching me when I spent over two hours the other day looking at pictures of James Blunt online? What did it think when I spilled that spaghetti on the kitchen floor but still ate it? Does it know that I watch that Korean channel on cable?

I should consider it comforting. Maybe I have a guardian angel. But mostly what I feel is that I want to be a better person. I don’t want to die and get stuck with someone as disgusting and painfully boring as me. I’m going to try to be nicer and more giving so that if I have to come back to watch over someone then hopefully they’ll be exciting, hot, and not disgusting. Like Prince Harry. Or that guy from "Prison Break."