Monday, April 27, 2015

Shut my mouth.

I have not shut my mouth all weekend.  And I'm thinking this is some kind of mental illness that needs labeling.  Or is it just mania?  Please God, let it not be mania.

At the writing conference, I interrupted everyone: speakers, listeners, lunch eaters, people peeing in the next stall.  I whispered every thought in my head to Ann, who sat next to me in the afternoons.

I knew I was doing it, and I could not stop.

And I ate sugar sugar sugar.  Could not shut my mouth for anything.  Yakkity yak yak and munch, gulp, swallow, chew. Repeat.

Do you know what I'm thinking?  Of course, you do, because I'm talking every second.

All my married life I have interrupted Tom.  I interrupted my children--"do you know you have a big zit on your forehead?"

I chatted through grade school.  Miss McCormick:  "Miss Roos, do I need to muzzle you?"

I can't stop talking.  I. Can't. Stop. Talking.


  1. And guess what. You shouldn't.

  2. Tom says don't stop talking, except for the first time I called your house.
    I was talking to Tom and he suddenly stopped and bellowed, "Louise! I'm talking on the phone, not you! Go Away!" then he got back on the phone and said to me, "She does that ALL the time. It drives me crazy."

    I knew right then I loved you both.

    1. Now Heather, that report could get me in a lot of trouble.

  3. I personally was there for precisely this reason: to listen to you yak.

  4. In sophomore year geography I had to have my desk in the middle of the aisle as I could not stop talking to those around me and my teacher got rather grumpy about it and then in junior year history I had to watch the class through the window as I once again could not keep my mouth shut!