Who Is She Talking To?

“So young to have lost her mind.” That’s what the woman beside me in the check-out line was thinking. And how could I blame her. There I was, staring at the suspended ceiling in IGA and yapping out loud about the potential profitability of magazine publishing, how I’d like to see the inside of that $7 million house on Wellington Crescent and why I can’t post comments to Ian’s blog.

I’ve been getting a lot of those looks lately. The kind you give to the crazy woman beside you. To set things straight, I haven’t lost my mind. I got an ear bud. You know, an ear bud. Those little things that stick in your ear and get connected to your cell phone. Handsfree. That means I can walk and chew gum at the same time. Or in tonight’s case, do the grocery shopping and get some business planning for 2006 done before 6 pm.

A word of caution—ear buds and the cords that connect them to your cell are often hidden by heavy winter clothing. In this case, it truly appears as though you are talking to yourself.

Don’t be the crazy lady on the block. Don’t be the weird guy who walks down the street talking to himself. When in doubt, unplug and hold your cell to your ear. It’s not nearly as convenient but at least neighbours and strangers will interrupt to say hi rather than cross the street to avoid you. But then again, maybe being avoided and left in my own little world isn’t such a bad thing. I think I will stay plugged in.