Wherever I Go, She Goes

( My current host hates having her picture taken, so this accurate, almost photo realistic drawing will have to do. Next to her is our cat Moshi. He is soft and warm, but he is also the reincarnation of a yakuza boss so he is mean. He only smiles after a fresh kill.)
    At some point, I'm sure we've all asked ourselves, "Why are we here?" In my case, that answer is pretty straight forward: my host, Sandi L., happens to live here and it's cheaper to live in her head than to get an apartment. To get around, I sometimes “borrow” my host’s physical presence in order to do important superhero things: sometimes I attempt to save people in distress, but most of the time I go to the grocery store because she can’t be bothered to keep a well stocked fridge. But just who is this mysterious young woman?
    Actually, I lied, she’s not all that mysterious at all. She says she’s a Graphic Design and Computer Science double major at the local university, but all I’ve ever really seen her do is read romantic comic books and watch videos on the Internet. Sandi likes people to think she’s a realist, always insisting on wanting a “proper, practical and profitable” career, but she’ll come crying like a big snotty baby into the arms of the fantastical whenever things go wrong.
    She draws comics that she won’t ever let anyone read, but dreams about one day making it as a comic artist. She loves looking at baby animals, but she breaks out in a stress rash whenever she’s around young human children. She learns foreign languages so she‘ll be ready when she travels, even though she hates to travel. She likes making lots of friends even though she will probably grow up to become a hermit mad scientist and be the first to weaponize kangaroos. She likes it when there are lots of green things in her room even though she thinks Mother Nature has cooties. She likes cooking even though there are only a few dishes that she can cook well. She loves researching the occult even though she doesn’t believe in the supernatural. She’ll dress practically all while in her head she wishes she looked good in cute frilly dresses. She has girlishly low self-esteem but at the same time manages to have an unjustifiably large amount of pride in herself and everything she’s ever done.
    She’s as big a mish mash of conflicting attributes as any other human I’ve ever met. But it makes my job easier. She isn’t in the least bit shocked, scared or surprised at being the alter ego for a superhero. In fact, she just says she’s read better plots in fan fiction and to only bother her with the details when I come up with something more interesting.
    We’re just a pair of pessimists with a penchant for apathy. If the fate of the world is ever dependant on either of us becoming suddenly altruistic, I would get started on a plan B if I were you. For the most part, we’re too preoccupied coming up with ways to pay the bills from month to month to worry about the world at large. But maybe, just maybe, between the two of us, as uselessly selfish as we are individually, we might be able to accomplish a little good in this world.