I’m a woman, so I’m prone to womanly behaviors such as dumping a bag of chocolate chips directly into my mouth, crying for no apparent reason, talking out of turn, and running away flailing while being chased by stinging insects (and I want to be a bee-keeper when I grow up?). One thing I don’t understand at all, is why some women never fucking shut up. It’s like they’re talking to hear their own voices.
Out of 24-hours, I talk MAYBE a grand total of 20 minutes. I type more than I talk, obviously. Just because I’m not speaking doesn’t mean my head is empty. I say what I need to say and don’t add a dissertation to everything. That’s just me – a person of few words – believe it or not. This is also why I sucked at essay tests in school. Essays require fillers and I despise fillers. If I can give a person the same amount of information in three sentences as I can in three paragraphs, what’s the fucking point? Speaking succinctly helps the menfolk communicate with me once they’re used to it because they come to realize that if I’m speaking, it’s something important that they should be listening to. This doesn’t mean they remember because men are blessed with fewer verbal centers in the brain.
When MC has to spend time with Harpy, the retraining period of getting him to listen to me takes forever. With her, the “important” info is contained in the middle third of her mouth-flapping, so he automatically blocks out the beginning and the end. He goes on auto-pilot and forgets I don’t speak in circles. I may say “hey!” to make sure I have his attention, then request confirmation that he heard me, but I can say in 30 seconds what it takes her 10 minutes to say.
The problem with talking so much, at least with her, is that while she’s talking, her ears are shut. She doesn’t hear a word anyone else says. She started early this morning calling friends and filling them in on “us” and the walls here are paper thin so I can hear everything she’s saying. First thing, I really really really miss my quiet mornings. I don’t want to hear another human voice until lunch time. Second, nothing she says is true. It’s all misconstrued in her brain because she was TALKING while doctors/people were trying to educate her.
Take my issues, for example. I’m sick as fuck. I think most people who know me can agree on this one. Even so, I’m a fucking pro at adapting and overcoming, while also reducing the amount of time spent complaining substantially (I save those for the internet). This is how I’m able to type better, knit, crochet, and even use a kitchen knife without cutting parts off. I can carry a mug full of coffee up the stairs because I’ve learned to take full advantage of ALL of my peripheral vision so I can monitor what my hands and feet are doing at the same time. I read an article last night about 2 young women who were born with a major defect in the gene responsible for proprioception. They could function almost like a normal person as long as their eyes were open. This is me! I’m not allowed to drive because I can’t very well look at my feet and hands while my eyes are supposed to be on the road.
So, she’s talking to whomever, and I hear her talking about my neurological stuff and then she says “I think she’s faking it so she doesn’t have to drive.” Haha! Oh my lorrrrrd. When I figured out it wasn’t safe to drive anymore, it was probably one of the worst things that has happened during this whole ordeal. Driving is my freedom and therapy. I loved to visit friends who were two states away just for the heck of it. Even better if they lived on the opposite side of the country. I love roadtrips! I don’t have that option anymore. If I get into an accident, I risk being sued for negligence. Not to mention I could kill myself and after all I’ve survived, it’d be lame to die in a crash unless it’s an epic one – Thelma and Louise style.
I’ve mentioned before that I have tried to explain my conditions to her, but she doesn’t hear me, so I’ve given up. There’s no correcting her. She can think what she wants. Meanwhile, she’s convinced her son is not long for the world, even after the doctor told him he could take a vacation if he wanted to. Go hiking, go motorbiking, whatever…so long as he isn’t lifting heavy stuff or running. He’s NOT a ticking time-bomb (yet). The estimation is that his heart will crap out before the artery splits. The reason for expediting the surgery is so that it doesn’t get to the point he needs a heart transplant.
It won’t be long before I tell her to shut the fuck up so I can have a little peace and quiet.