Talking to myself


I have a habit of talking to myself.  Not exactly holding a conversation with myself, it’s more of a one-sided habit of verbal reprimand or verbal high-five.  You know, like when I do something stupid I call myself out on it, and when I make something pretty I say, “Cute!  I’m Awesome!” 

I never really gave this habit much thought before this morning, though.  Here’s what happened:

As is my usual practice, I took a shower this morning and went into my laundry dressing room, to fix my hair and adorn my face with beautiful colorings…(aka “putting on makeup”).  Zohrhubby and Big E had already left for work, Teen C was in the den, already ready for her doctor’s appointment and watching tv while waiting, and the two remaining Wee Zohrkiddos were in their beds. 

I sat in the chair at the old computer desk my vanity table, I grabbed a brush from the basket, and began blow drying my hair.  I dropped the hairbrush, bent over to pick it up, and, having misjudged the distance between my body and the table top, smacked my forehead on the way down. “Dumbass!” I said, rubbing my head, and then continued to blow drying my hair. 

A few minutes later, I began putting on my foundation, and halfway through I looked into the mirror, and realized that a stray black eyeliner speck that had gotten on my hand was now streaked across one side of my face, and then squiggled around my nose.  “Omigod!  Way to go, BRAINIAC!  I don’t have time for this crap!” I said, as I used a baby wipe to get the black stuff off my hand and face.  

I went on with my morning routine, and a few moments later, Teen C came out of her room (because apparently she hadn’t been in the den as I thought) and looked around the corner at me.  “Who were you talking to?” she asked.  “When?” I had no idea what she was talking about.  “Just now…you were fussing at somebody.”  “Oh!  No, I was just talking to myself.”  “What?!”  I had to then explain what I’d done so she’d understand why I was fussing. 

“You must really hate yourself.  That’s kinda crazy.” 

“No! No!  I just talk to myself a lot.” 

“You’re not making a good case for disagreeing with my ‘crazy’ statement.”

“When you do dumb stuff like slam your hand in a door or something, don’t you say out loud how dumb you were for doing it?”

“No.  I just say ‘OW!'”

. . .

Am I crazy?  Anyone else do this??  Okay, to be fair, those are two totally unrelated questions.  So just stick to the second one, smartasses.  🙂

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About zohrbak

Zohrbak is an old email username I had a while back...it's a made-up twist on two characters from Spaceghost. Zorak and Brak. I'm a geek. I am a married, working mother of 4 children, ages 4-15. I also have interests outside of my children, but I can never remember what they are.
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7 Responses to Talking to myself

  1. dorquemada says:

    Yeah, you’re completely bonkers. Go ahead and sign up for a frontal lobotomy and shock treatment.

  2. Zohrsis says:

    ALL the time lol

  3. spiceblogger says:

    First of all… I talk to myself all the time. And I answer myself. Yep, two way convos All. The. Time.
    Most of the time I try to pull it off like I’m just talking to my dogs, but really I’m conversing with myself.
    Does that make me crazy? meh.
    Do I care? meh.

    Are YOU crazy?
    Well, that’s something else entirely. 😉

  4. Just Aimee says:

    Yeah I do it too. As a matter of fact, I think a more appropriate question would be who DOESN’T do it. The fact of the matter is that THOSE are the crazy people.

    There is SOME STUDY, someWHERE that proves this, I just know it.

  5. Miz Tiz says:

    Guilty! Don’t know how I’d live otherwise. I too try to pass it off on talking to the dogs.

  6. I worked in the same office once with a woman who said my constant talking to myself was driving her up the wall.
    I couldn’t stop. Still can’t.
    Jodi

  7. Jalyn says:

    hell I’m having a convo w/myself now about your convo w/urself!!!!

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