A Demystification: Eve

Day 12: Introspection Time!

I think this is day three of Doctor Who references. DO NOT WATCH DOCTOR WHO MULTIPLE DAYS IN A ROW!

WORD COUNT: 696

Gods. Who would have thought that the first experience in my life that offered any sort of excitement was the single most impossible thing that could ever happen to a person? I mean, gods showing up in your life asking for help doesn't even happen much in literature! OK, so Neil Gaiman did it, does it, and will continue to do it, but usually it's the other way around! And technically, Shadow...well, spoilers. Wait. Why am I putting spoiler blocks into my own thoughts? Man, I think I'm going insane. This is literally driving me insane.

What do I do about gods showing up in my life? What does anyone do about gods showing up in their lives? I mean, we've all read fantasy, right? We all wanted to go off with the dreamy Doctor in the TARDIS and explore time and space. I grew up wishing I could be Indiana Jones, or at least join him on his many adventures in Nazi Germany.

But if that were to actually happen? If the TARDIS were to literally just appear in our living rooms, would we really be the willing companion, jumping into the inter-dimensional traveling Police Box to journey with the centuries-old Time Lord? Or would we run screaming into the streets and lock ourselves into our room?

Is my life so exciting, so special that I can afford to turn down the opportunity to have adventures with a god? (I am reminded here of Ghostbusters, but that only helps in the event that I am asked if I am a god, not if I want to travel and save the world with one, so perhaps that's just my inability to keep my mouth shut every time something pops into my head.) What if this is the moment--the moment--that I'm meant to capitalize on? A crossroads of destiny, where I can choose to remain as I am--safe, but ultimately dull--or take a step in the direction of excitement, but sacrifice any safety I may have garnered for myself.

Does safety outrank any consideration I may have for living life like it should be lived? Asked like that, it seemed easy which decision I should make, but one cannot really appreciate the amount of danger inherent in going off on these fantastical journeys. How many times has a Companion been shot, killed, infected with strange diseases, kidnapped? How many adventures have been safe, routine visits to the local coffee shop? Do visits to the Starbucks come included with the ticket price, or are those extra, like the first class of TARDIS travel?

It's not like I have an exciting life, or anything. Safe, yes. I work at a bookstore cafe. I majored in literature in a society that thinks I'm completely useless to it. My parents want to know why I don't have a job somewhere important, like every other member of the family, who went into Law or Medicine or some other "useful" field. And, really, I guess I don't have a reply. It wouldn't make me happy, I suppose, to do something like that. It wouldn't fulfill the part of my soul that sought some sort of meaning in life beyond making enough money to buy my way into supposed importance. It wouldn't be enough to just earn money.

I wanted something more.

But then why did I run when Hermes showed up outside my bookstore, showing me his true nature and asking for my help? Why did I scream like a little girl and lock myself in my room, all the while hoping that Hermes never managed to find me and knowing that he would? Why did I turn down the first and best chance at excitement that my sorry life had ever given me?

What else could I ever have wanted? Was I just being a chicken, afraid to take a chance?

What if I died?

What if I didn't help and we all died, including them? Including my family? Including everyone and everything I ever loved?

Well, that solves it. Off to the TARDIS I go. Heroism, excitement, and the chance to save the world.

I'm totally in.