I hear voices.
I think they are just my own, but sometimes I’m not so sure. For instance, a few minutes ago I was eavesdropping on a conversation in the next room, and I was certain the following was said:
“Are you ready to do the urine sample?”
“I just need a dribble.”
Now, before you think I am totally nutso–the conversation did take place. Someone was asking someone for a cup of pee, that part is certain. However, what seems to have not taken place is the comment “I just need a dribble.” My sources claim that actually the final comment was “I just need a little bit.” What is the difference between “a dribble” and “a little bit”? The world.
You see, one of them seems like a typical response to “Not yet.” Coaxing the boy who is about to pee in a cup that he needn’t worry because you only want “a little” specimen then he won’t feel the pressure to perform. However, telling him that you are seeking “a dribble” is a hell of a lot funnier.
And that is the point, really. I can’t tell if I actually misheard the comment or if my mind transformed it so it sounded better to my ears. This may seem a subtle difference, but it happens all of the time. And often, it happens during situations that don’t really occur. Conversations occur to me and then are enhanced and then I repeat them as fact. Over and over. Often to myself in the shower or while walking down the street. And I laugh. Lately, people are starting to stare.
I’m not sure if it is the novelist in me who needs to re-arrange the world to fit into a nice narrative, or if I’m cuckoo for cocoa-puffs. Either way it makes things interesting to me, and allows me to deliver it interestingly to other people. So maybe it is actually a gift. If only people would stop staring…
The only other thing to confess at this point is that I also twitch. Or jump. One time I was on an elevator and was getting so excited that I was jumping a little and all of the sudden a loud voice started to say “Are you okay? Do you need assistance?” It was the intercom, and the person speaking was at the security desk watching me on a camera and couldn’t figure out why I was jumping. Neither could I. But I stopped so they wouldn’t worry. You know, come to think of it, was there really a voice on the intercom? I sure hope so. If there wasn’t it means I missed out on several floors of jumping time.