Me, Unplugged

Take a tour of my world if you dare! Step on to “Planet D” and see what life is like through my eyes. It’s not all magic and moonbeams and I don’t walk around with rhymes running through my head, or chapters appearing in front of me when I gaze at a blank page. Okay, let’s be honest. I do hear voices in my head. They are generally mine, and usually come spewing out of my mouth before I can censor them. At which point they then fall stubbornly silent, leaving me to stutter and stumble through an apology/explanation.

My mother always explained my random faux pas with the phrase, “she’s a writer”, and a slight shake of her head. Her audience would just nod and give me that smile you reserve for those you consider too feeble-minded for words. Depending on my mood, I’d either smile silently or come up with some deliberately crazy remark designed to make them seek the nearest escape route.

I have nothing to go by, no gauge to measure how “normal” I might be, since my best friends are all like me. I enjoy people who are quick-witted (here’s where I changed from my original phrase of “smart-asses”, just to prove I Can be civilized when I have to want to be. Mom would be proud, God rest her soul).

I also have the attention span of a gnat! If something interesting catches my attention, my mind takes off like a dog after a squirrel! It doesn’t even have to be something important; just something that distracted me. Food is a big distractor. The other day at breakfast I told my husband, “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of how delicious this bacon is.” Too bad there are no frequent flier miles for flights of fancy!

Where was I again? Oh yes, my world. It’s a crazy kaleidoscope of thoughts and emotions, questions and observations. Totally oblivious to some things (“you cut your hair?! When did you cut your hair?!” … “Last month” … “oh. Well, it looks good…”), and intricately interested in others (“my toasted cheese looks like Jesus’s face. Do you See that? I can’t eat Jesus’s face!”).

Is all this “normal”. Who knows? Is it what makes me a writer? Again, who knows? Do You need to be like me to be a writer? No! After all, there are millions of writers in the world, and just one me. So be yourself. Be unique. Be fearless.

Gotta run! I’m going crazy if anyone wants to carpool!

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