| Thursday, November 17, 2005 |
| Steve Secret Four |
I talk to myself.
"So what?" you ask. "Everyone talks to themselves."
Yeah, but I do it all the time and get caught.
Every once in awhile, passing through Eden Park, I see this guy waiting at the bus stop yelling at the sky. Unfortunately, there's no one around him, so I assume that he's a little out of his mind. I make sure not to make eye contact with him as I drive by. Hey, if this guy yells at himself when no ones around, I don't want to see what happens when he gets an audience.
I'm not quite as bad as the bus stop guy, but I'm working on it. Just the other day I was at work and had to go to the bathroom [obviously]. As I walked in, I stepped toward the urinal [sorry if this is too much info] and began saying to myself, "Man, dude! You've been pushing it hard all day," at which time I heard a rustling in the stall next to me. Knowing that I had just been caught talking to myself, all I could do is start humming, finish as quickly as I could [I did wash my hands] and get out of there.
I know I should stop talking to myself, but I just do it naturally. My grandmother, who passed away nine years ago, used to tell me that I was destined to be a preacher because, even as a baby, I was always talking to myself. She might have nailed my career path, but perhaps she misdiagnosed my self-dialogue. I think it really means I'm loco.
Make fun of me if you like, but I have some pretty good conversations with myself. |
yet another musing of steve-o @ 3:28:00 PM  |
|
-->
|
|
|
|
