I talk to myself.
Not in a charming, 'muttering the grocery list under my breath' sort of way.
But the full on, 'having a conversation' sort of way.
I always have.
When I was younger I got teased mercilessly for it (mostly by my sister - thanks sis, that wasn't damaging AT ALL.)
I mostly do it in the car. My mind wanders, I start thinking about random stuff and suddenly realize WAIT - I'm talking about this OUT LOUD.
I'm pretty sure my kids think I'm crazy.
And now my husband does too.
The other day, I was out running errands alone and, naturally, talking to myself when I realized I had inadvertently pocket dialed Nate.
Meaning, for four and a half agonizing minutes he listened to me ramble.
Alone. In the car.
When I got home, he took me into the kitchen and very sweetly told me that I was fucking insane.
Which....duh. You've been with me for 7 years and you are just now figuring that out?
He didn't think that was very funny.
And thanks to the glory of bluetooth technology, I can always pass it off as simply being on the phone with someone while I'm in the car when really...I'm not.
I'm not talking to my kids either (not always, anyway.)
Just plain ol' talking to myself like a crazy person.
And now you know.