I can’t pinpoint the exact moment it began, but I have come to the stunning conclusion that I am now a person who talks to themselves. I was in the Kroger parking lot earlier today, loading my reusable grocery bags into my car, when I grasped a particularly heavy bag and, as I tried to lift it up, the handle snapped completely off. I said, out loud, “Well, THAT’S not helpful.”
Who was I talking to? There was no one around, so I guess that would be myself.
It started to dawn on me that I do this several times during any given day. I forgot to mail a pile of letters that I was holding IN MY HAND as I drove right past the mailbox the other day, and I screamed out loud, to myself, “What the f*^$# is wrong with you?!?” Why do I speak to myself in the second person while I am by myself? No clue.
But, no, it doesn’t stop there. I also speak to other people when I am the only one in the room. My husband did the dishes after dinner last night, and as I opened the cabinet this morning to grab a skillet so I could make breakfast, I noticed he had precariously stacked the pots and pans he had cleaned on top of one another, WITH NO ORGANIZATIONAL PLAN IN MIND. I became so enraged I screamed, “Come on, dude! That’s not how you put these away! Get your head in THE GAME!”
My husband was not only NOT in the room, he wasn’t even in the house. He was at that moment 20 miles away at work.
Why am I doing this? I don’t know. Is it normal? I’m scared to ask.
Image from EyeOpening Info.