It stands to reason then that half a century on we've found not only ourselves but several alternative versions. So who truly represents me, myself and I?
There's my physical self, all stick legs and mild paranoia. My Facebook self, with its grinny selfies and bake-off boasting. And, on and off for the past 10 years, my dating website self.
Anyone who's experienced the trepidation, validation, indignation and (hopefully) vindication of online dating knows that the online me and the physical me are rarely one in the same. Yet, I dare say it's a case of same script, different cast.
"I can be shy and outgoing, I like nights out as well as nights on the couch, I like to keep an open mind..." and the clincher: "I'm really down to earth."
Down to earth. Why is that so important? Because men come from Mars, women from Venus and incredibly we found our way here? After such a torrid journey it's not surprising that we prefer to "go with the flow" rather than beat our own path.
But here we are, and we can grab the oars and row anywhere we want to go. Once again, we're spoilt for choice. With all our selves in the boat, where do we go from here? We need to make a decision...
But here we are, and we can grab the oars and row anywhere we want to go. Once again, we're spoilt for choice. With all our selves in the boat, where do we go from here? We need to make a decision...
Instead we celebrate spontaneity, otherwise known as an inability to plan or commit, as a salve for the war wounds of our working lives. In an age of multi-tasking, isn't this plain laziness? Or did we simply forget which of our selves we assigned to the task?
It seems we've spread ourselves too thin. Bits of us are stuck on walls, our brains sufficiently scattered across our endeavours. So who's going to start us on a journey of self-recovery?
