Keep it down

I talk to myself. Out loud. A lot.

I've done it forever. Seriously, my entire life. I practice conversations I'm going to have, reenact ones I've already had, sort through the events of the day, flesh out my philosophy on life, love, whatever . . . I'm a chatter. Even when I'm alone.

Couple this tendency with my inability to whisper AT ALL and it makes for some entertaining public interaction.

Now that I work downtown, I get caught talking to myself almost every day. Construction workers, other office types, ladies who lunch, the Temple Square missionaries -- I've been busted by them all. I don't have an earpiece for my cell phone anymore, so I can't pretend that I'm on the phone. Which I totally did in law school a bunch of times. Awkward when the phone in my purse rang for real, mid-fake conversation.

Yesterday I was on my way to lunch (outside the building!!) and I came upon a homeless guy with a crazy eye, talking to himself at full volume and gesticulating madly. As I walked past, he turned his crazy eye on me, made an angry pirate sound, waved his hands towards heaven, and cursed the government and white paint. He moved along quickly and I continued on my merry way, kind of chuckling at the "characters" one sees downtown.

Until I stopped dead in my tracks at the startling realization that I am maybe one Bad Hair Day and a can of white paint away from that guy.