I'VE always joked that I'm the only person who listens to me.
When I say it, some people nod. Some people laugh. Most glance off the subject not really listening, thereby validating my statement.
It amuses me to say it. I am also aware that the makeup of the clown can hide a darker persona.
Certainly, there is plenty of cause to wonder if having conversations with yourself (yes, I do talk to myself out loud at times - actually I'm doing it right now) hides some deeper psychosis.
Am I in some sort of self-approving popularity competition? Do I want to appear constantly engaged? Is this lively conversation a rehearsal for the real thing (ie with another person present)? Or is the obvious fact - well - obvious - that I am simply a sad loner with imaginary friends.
Maybe all of the above is true, but as a glass-half-full sort of person (that one was a long self debate) I prefer to think of this as healthy communication, albeit slightly quirky but most definitely enchanting.
How enchanting is it when your habit bleeds into a new medium and you compound your self-chat with a tinsy bit of self-emailing?
Okay, maybe not a tinsy bit. Maybe a fair percentage of my daily emails come from the only person who truly listens to me.
And I can't even put the origins of this one in my childhood. This is definitely a habit started by someone with a few years under their belt (note how I sidestepped the word 'mature'). Habits are insidious creatures with innocent eyes.
It started with the occasional email, forwarded from me to myself for practical purposes - as a reminder or to put at the top of the list, or as an effective correspondence filing system.
It was a simple case of putting the Linda file from there to there. And then things started to escalate.
I started to change the subject line telling myself this was about filing and needed to be right. It was less about the popularity of receiving the most emails (if that were the case, wouldn't I send myself the same email twice - food for self discussion) and more about being organised.
But tampering with the subject line is only a few keystrokes away from throwing in a cheery comment like 'Hello' or 'Here you are' or 'from me'.
And so it became as much about the receiving as it was about the sending with a few quiet chuckles at the other end of the email exchange.
What harm is there in cheering yourself up at the end of a busy day?
And now I've heard there are others who send themselves emails, too.
I wouldn't mind sending them some from me to broach the subject, but I will have to have a long talk to myself about it first.