This photo made me talk to myself. Photo by @marcojodoin
Have you picked up some pandemic habits you’re not sure you want? I talk to myself. Out loud. I consider, I argue, I vent, and I’m always surprised when people look at me strangely. “Oh, haha was I saying something?” Big mask covered eye smile.
I was at the grocery store and started an intense conversation with myself as I looked for the hot Texas okra pickles which they always carry but there were none on the shelf. Not just out of stock but gone.
My conversation went like this. “Where are those pickles? I don’t see them anywhere. Don’t tell me they no longer stock them! D*** it! They always do this. Just when I find something I really like, they stop carrying it. I should talk to the manager. Maybe the other store has them. Wait. I already did that. Sh**.”
I regret to say that I have the vocabulary of a lusty sailor, but I try to keep it under wraps in public. Now I apparently have lost all my marbles.
My Grandmother Mackey use to mutter to herself. I thought she was talking to ghosts. She said she was talking to Grandfather, who was dead, so I understand how my kid mind jumped to ghosts. It scared me a little. She lived alone. I have no such excuse.
I’ve tried whistling which is equally disturbing and lately I’ve tried to hum instead of talk. I’ve caught myself whisper-sing-talking a few times which ah no: weirder.
The hamster was back on the wheel yesterday and I had a brainstorm. All I need to do is start wearing earbuds. I can listen to music! My fear about doing this is that I’ll compensate by talking loudly to myself to over the music. Maybe it will look like I AM talking to someone else with the earbuds in play. Problem is I like to be present when I do things and music is so distracting.
Truth is I talk to myself to clarify things, To give myself some options and to pat myself on the back when things go well or badly.
Today at the store, I passed a woman who was talking to herself while comparing tortilla shells. One of my peeps.
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