Is That Me?

I live alone. I keep myself busy and have the run of the house. When I arise in the morning, I have a routine that I follow that gets my day started: I drink a bottle of water, read in my journals (that I have been keeping since 1954) and have a cup of coffee. None of this involves discourse of any kind and sometimes, when the phone rings, I find that, when I pick up the receiver to answer it, I am either hoarse or not speaking as plainly as I usually do. It’s a strange thing but not uncommon among those of us who live along and don’t talk to ourselves. We haven’t heard our voices until we are required to use them for answering the phone or greeting someone after we leave the house. I will admit that occasionally I do talk to the whistling tea kettle when I boil water for my instant coffee fix in the morning. When the kettle starts whistling, I have been known to shout, “Okay, be patient. I’m coming as fast as I can.” Then at least I have a preview of my voice condition. I don’t consider that as weird as I would if I talked to myself all the time.