FULL voice

You ever see someone walking down the street, talking out loud to themselves? I know what you thought: “Geesh, crazy people.”

Don’t worry – it’s probably just me.

When you live by yourself, you talk to your pets, if you have them. If not, you talk to yourself. I’ve been on my own for the last seven years, sans pets, and trust me, if you don’t talk to someone, you really will lose your marbles.

I’ve known for a while that this is an issue, but I think I realized that it was a problem about three years ago, when, walking through the mall one Saturday morning, I made a comment to no one in particular about a closed kiosk, then looked up to find myself face to face with a friend. He had thought I was nuts. When he realized it was me, he was sure of it.

My brain disseminates a running stream of commentary no matter what I happen to be doing; broadcasting it has become an embarrassing habit. The worst is when I’m muttering to myself and run into someone – and then disparage myself out loud for doing it just in time for someone else to bear witness. Sometimes there are accompanying gestures. Geesh.

The guy who delivers my newspaper talks to himself. I know the paper has arrived when I hear the sound of a voice outside  my (closed) window. He’s really loud. I don’t know if he does it because he’s lonely, there’s really something wrong, or he’s just trying to ward off the muggers. Although I don’t know that there are a lot of muggers out at 6 am.

I was walking down the street about a week ago and passed a house just as the mailman was descending from the front porch. He was talking at full voice – to absolutely no one. I looked twice to make sure there wasn’t someone lingering at the door, but nope, no one there. I’m working on a theory that the process of delivering printed materials causes this syndrome, but that doesn’t explain why I do it.

Knowing that I’m not the only one uttering my stageless soliloquies doesn’t make me feel much better. Although whenever I’m caught in the act, I don’t feel crazy – I feel more like an idiot.

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About Mindy

I am divorced, no kids, working full-time in corporate communications. There are never enough hours in my day, mostly because I insist on hygiene, food, exercise and clean dishes. Really, how do women with kids do it?!?
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