bunt sign

Wednesday, September 18, 2002

In my case at least, I'm convinced that talking to myself is a sign of good mental health. Yes, I really mean that. No, I don't think it's—

Okay, maybe arguing with myself isn't such a wonderful thing.

Today I was a conversational livewire, all alone here, and I think the reason is simple. I'm in a good mood. It's one of my "up" days, and I have a lot to say. To myself, apparently.

Yesterday when I was feeling low, I don't think I said two sentences to myself all day. I simply had nothing to say, and I'm considerate that way. If I don't have anything that needs saying (to myself, that is), I keep still. Obviously, I post a journal entry every day regardless of whether I have anything to say or not.

When I'm really rolling, I talk as if there really is another person listening to me. No, I don't believe I have an imaginary friend, or even a real one that only I can see. But I ramble on just the same. That's when I'm feeling good, like today. On days like yesterday, I talk directly to myself. Whenever I feel that I've done wrong, or missed a chance to do right, I'll cuss myself out something fierce. To my face.

I'm extremely lucky to live so far away from my neighbors. It's not quite like living on an island, but I can still say (and do) whatever, at whatever volume is required. You should hear me sneeze. Or maybe not, but the point is, I don't hold back, and when I do it three or four times in a row, it's likely to be followed by a primal howl of disgust. Eagh! Something like that.

I often talk to bugs and lizards. I don't think there's anything unusual about that, do you? I mean, I see more bugs and lizards than I do people, in the course of a normal day.

When the TV's on, I can be glib and articulate. (Yes, both.) If you sneak up my driveway, you might hear any number of one-sided conversations.

"Watch out, Sonny! There's a gun pointed at your back."

"Monk! You forgot to touch one of the posts."

"Are you blind, ump? He was out by ten feet."

When someone on TV asks me a question, I always have an answer.

"Do you have what it takes?"


If you know me, you know it's easy to make me laugh. You don't even have to be very funny, which I guess is why I watch network sitcoms. When I'm watching by myself, I don't hold back.

And yes, I sing in the car. In fact, with the exception of the shower and once in awhile when the radio's turned up full blast, that's the only time I sing. Unless a lyric pops into my head, of course. Then I have to express it. After seeing "Mamma Mia!," I'm still stuck on ABBA. Knowing me, knowing you (ah-haa...)

Sometimes I make sense, sometimes not. When I'm my own audience, it hardly matters.


Afternoon clouds.

Check out Bonnie's Hands Project. It's a lovely idea, beautifully done. Maybe you can contribute to it. (Do I have to tell you to click the image? No, I didn't think so.)

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