Apparently I talk to myself.
I know this because I’ve heard my own voice speaking out loud when I am well aware that there is no one else around. And I suspect this has been going on for a long time. Years, even.
Then the obvious question arises: Is this normal?
Of course it is. Who decides what is normal and what isn’t anyway? (Keep in mind that this logic is coming from one who has conversations with her fictional characters.)
This morning’s conversation with myself was enlightening. Sort of. Well, maybe not.
Me #1: (as I turn off the alarm at 5:45 am) I guess I should get up.
Me #2: Yes I should.
Me #1: But it’s raining outside and probably cold.
Me #2: Yup. It’s definitely raining. I can hear it.
Me #1: Me too.
Now that we’ve established the weather situation, got ourselves out of the house, and are enroute to the church . . . it’s 6:30.
Me #2: I’m going to stop at Tim Horton’s on my way to prayer meeting.
Me #1: Don’t forget to pick up a mocha for Betty.
Me #2: Oh right, I almost forgot.
Me #1: You’re talking to yourself.
Me #2: So are you.
At that point I concluded that I should probably keep quiet about my little conversation.
Inside the Writer 