Here’s the thing:

Every time that I start thinking about or planning a blog post, those three words seem to start each idea.  Do they need to?  No, but they do all the same.  I don’t get it, but those words seem to center my thoughts and allows me to focus on whatever it is I’ve decided to talk about.

Which is, oddly enough this week, those three words.

I mean, it doesn’t make sense why I have to use them.  And if I’m going to be frank, they feel more like a crutch than anything else.  Without it, I feel that I have to think more critically, to shape my thoughts and arguments and words to an overarching ideal that makes me seem smarter than I actually am.  The sentences and ideas are stronger without it, making me a better writer.

But then why do I do it?

Honestly, I have no clue.  Perhaps we all have these mental crutches and worries, and this is how my own take form.  Because—and here is where I think I sound a bit crazy—most of these posts come from me talking to myself.  I talk to myself a lot.

I blame my mother for that.  Dad never seemed to talk to himself, but more than once I overheard Mom clearly talking to herself.  Maybe she didn’t know I was listening.  Maybe she didn’t realize I was home.  Maybe I was just  in another room (my bedroom) and she was elsewhere (the kitchen).  Whatever the reason, it was a common occurrence in our house growing up.  To this day, I still ignore her if I know that she isn’t talking to me.

Sure, sure.  Call that any teenager ever, but it is common practice in our house.  Of course, it gets awkward when my dad and his hearing loss get involved.  He’s yelling at her about what she’s saying to him, but she’s not and. . . . It’s like watching daytime television while still working a 9 to 5 job.

Growing up, I had to get my drama somewhere.

Anyways, that is perhaps why I’ve always talked to myself.  And, I feel it is safe to assume, the habit of talking to myself is why I start every conversation with “Here’s the thing.”

So the real question is do I want to break that habit?  And the more I think of it, the more I don’t think I will.  Does it hurt anything?  No.  Am I bothering anyone else? No. I talk to myself and that just won’t stop.  Sometimes I do it because I need expert advice, but more often than not, I do it because I picked it up from my mom.  And if it focuses my thoughts, who am I to complain?

So here’s the thing:

 

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