The Astronaut's Ego

Focus, this is it. It’s your time. You’re almost there. Three days from now and everyone will see. They’ll know. They can no longer pretend like what you’re doing is not monumental. Game-changing. You’re about the alter the freakin’ world. Or worlds, rather.

I’ll be the first to see it all with my own eyes. The vivid reds, the mellow browns, the stark ambers. I’ll feel the arid soil between my gloves. My size eight bootprint will forever mark the landscape. I’ll scale the nearest hill, descend past an embankment and discover what the planet has to offer. 

My findings will be canonized in scientific journals and referenced for eons. Scholars will mention me in the same breath as Einstein and Sagan. My mannerisms and appearance will become a symbol for free thought and discovery. 

Young astrophysicists will cite me in their thesis papers and hold me in esteem—as a model of true success. Foundational grants will be created in my honor, endowing research for centuries. 

When tapped for interviews, I’ll remain humble. Focusing on the science and the furtherment of knowledge. But who am I kidding? I’ll be brimming with excitement. Fidgeting like a young school girl with watts of unspent energy. 

My children will have set futures by, no doubt, continuing in my bootprints. What will they add to the history books? Planetary discoveries? Faster than light travel? 

Breathe, just breathe. That will all come in due time. Now I need to focus on my first moments. I think I’ll go the Armstrong route with a one-liner. 

With this step, we are no longer a planetary species but a galaxian race. 

Hmm… I’m not sure if that’s right. 

Earth will forever be our home but Mars is our future. 

No, that’s not right either. 

Two down, six to go. 

Yeah, there it is.

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