Things I Tell Myself

Things I tell myself

I maybe talk to myself a little too much.

It’s what keeps me sane. Ha-ha.

Every time I do, I have Lizzie McGuire flashbacks to that little cartoon in her head. I think, in different ways, we all have a little cartoon of ourselves screaming, running, or speaking dead-pan in our heads. That little voice.

Lizzie McGuire. Boys. Relationship. Guys will high five me but they won't hold my hand

My cartoon usually begins with a long sigh, followed by, “Rebekah. . . ”

Unless, of course, I’m selling myself something. Then I get really creative.

Watching Your Mouth

Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent. . 

I have a little problem watching something. No, church members, it isn’t your kids I teach on Wednesday nights. It definitely isn’t my money. I watch that closely as it sifts through my fingers and transforms itself into beaming new shoes.

No. It’s my mouth.

I’m very sarcastic by nature. I get it from my dad, and I’m sorry to say, but I love it. I love the twisted view sarcastic people have on the world around them. I can sift through #sarcasm tweets for hours. Some are quite clever.

That’s what I like about sarcasm. How the better you are at it is equal to your skills in quick thinking. The cleverness of you. Sarcasm is a different language that a lot of people don’t understand. It’s an art.

That’s the biggest problem. So many people don’t understand that art. So you have to learn a different one.

The art of holding your tongue.