I never used to talk to myself until I came to college. On occasion I'd talk to my cats in high school if I was really lonely in the house. I'd say things like, "Lady Marmalade, your whiskers are looking quite long today." I don't know that that's a compliment to a cat--are long whiskers favorable to the a tom cat?--or if she could really understand me. But I liked to think I was making her Little Orange Kitty Day. But now I just talk to the air. I talk to my chair. I talk to the owl vase sitting over there. I just wrote a poem.
Anyway. I came in the room today and started talking to Cinnie Minnie who wasn't back yet. So... no one. And when I realized she wasn't there, I just kept talking like she was. "Okay. I see you're not here. That's cool. Oh, damn, I just dropped my keys. I think I'm gonna hang out until you get here. I wonder if you're with Nathan right now. I'm totally talking to myself, now. I think I'm gonna pee."
And then she came back and I pretended to be normal again.
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