Lost Voice
Somewhere in the last few days, I lost my voice.
I sound like the squeaky-voiced teen on the Simpsons, especially when I try to speak loudly. My friend Harley suggested that this might be some sort of hangover from my silent yoga/Buddhism retreat the other week and that seems like a fairly reasonable, if somewhat woo-woo conjecture, but I’m thinking it’s more likely an allergy of some sort, especially given that I feel fine otherwise.
It’s sort of interesting not being able to give real voice to my thoughts, at least vocally, and it’s made me measure my words more. A couple of times in the last day or two when I would have given Mimi some unsolicited parenting or let Jen know something she already knew, I’ve held my tongue, a phenomenon I’m not particularly known for generally.
At the barbershop today, I didn’t have to engage in polite conversation with my haircutter, which was kind of nice. Once she noticed how I was struggling to make myself heard, she picked up the conversational ball and ran with it. Now I know lots more about her daughter’s summer camp than I ever expected to.
At the bank, where I went to try to retrieve another! lost bank card (every six months or so, I leave the damn thing in the ATM), I think the teller thought I was trying to disguise my voice or something because he looked at me very suspiciously when I tried to explain to him what I think happened. In any case, the card wasn’t retrieved, so now I will have to use my voice to talk to someone in India to order a new one.
I’m sure there’s something more significant to this loss of speaking ability than I’m letting on to myself. No doubt this is a sign that I’m either talking way too much or failing to express myself as I should.
In either case, I’m shutting up now.
205/327
I sound like the squeaky-voiced teen on the Simpsons, especially when I try to speak loudly. My friend Harley suggested that this might be some sort of hangover from my silent yoga/Buddhism retreat the other week and that seems like a fairly reasonable, if somewhat woo-woo conjecture, but I’m thinking it’s more likely an allergy of some sort, especially given that I feel fine otherwise.
It’s sort of interesting not being able to give real voice to my thoughts, at least vocally, and it’s made me measure my words more. A couple of times in the last day or two when I would have given Mimi some unsolicited parenting or let Jen know something she already knew, I’ve held my tongue, a phenomenon I’m not particularly known for generally.
At the barbershop today, I didn’t have to engage in polite conversation with my haircutter, which was kind of nice. Once she noticed how I was struggling to make myself heard, she picked up the conversational ball and ran with it. Now I know lots more about her daughter’s summer camp than I ever expected to.
At the bank, where I went to try to retrieve another! lost bank card (every six months or so, I leave the damn thing in the ATM), I think the teller thought I was trying to disguise my voice or something because he looked at me very suspiciously when I tried to explain to him what I think happened. In any case, the card wasn’t retrieved, so now I will have to use my voice to talk to someone in India to order a new one.
I’m sure there’s something more significant to this loss of speaking ability than I’m letting on to myself. No doubt this is a sign that I’m either talking way too much or failing to express myself as I should.
In either case, I’m shutting up now.
205/327
posted by Professor Dave at 5:31 PM
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