photo by me

I have it. I swear I do.

Or maybe I should stick my foot in my mouth to stop me from talking and talking and talking.

I’ve thought about this a lot. And it’s funny. I’m not actually a big talker. I don’t talk a lot in most situations (and it’s not just me saying this – family members say I barely talk at all in social situations).

But lately, at work, you can’t shut me up. I don’t know why. I just keep talking and talking.

I think part of it is because I really like these people and I want them to know me and like me, too.

I think part of it is that I don’t talk for hours (or days) on end, when I’m home (and, for instance, this last weekend was 4 days alone, with only Dakota to talk to). So, when I get to work, I’m happy for the socialization and want to talk.

But I talk and talk and talk. And I don’t really say anything at all. I’m dorky. I mean, really dorky. I say the most inane things and then wonder where it all came from.

And sometimes I get so excited while I’m talking, and want to share so fast, before the person escapes, that I run out of breath while I’m talking and am trying to catch my breath and keep talking a mile a minute – almost like this sentence…running on and on and on.

Maybe I need to be gagged.