Talking to yourself.

Well? Do you do it?
Orla Barry had some girl called Tina Delahunty on, and she says she's holding a poll to see if folk talk to themselves. She reckons folk get all twitchy about this, as though other folk mght think them nutty if they do.
I don't know about nutty, but I do know I'm a regular waffler to myself, usually aloud. Normally I waffle to the cats- which is like talking to yourself, only with a sort of escape clause.
'Are you talking to yourself?' A person might ask.
'No, to the cats.'
'Right, so you're not mad.'
'No, no, devil a bit of it. Isn't that right Puddy?'
'Meow.'
'That was you doing that.'
'Eek, oh hahah, I was just joking.'
Truth be told, there might not be a cat anywhere near me at the time.
Yesterday, as I was strolling up from the village with the milk and some Curly Wurlies, I was talking to myself, I was alone so I was in full flight, right up until the point that a man came around the corner and looked puzzled. Then I switched to my back up cover up, singing. At any given moment of self chatter I can break into the strain of some song or other, thus confusing the casual listener.
'Is this girl talking to herself?' They might wonder, noticing that I am alone and being full sure they heard conversation not moments before.
Then we will get closer and I will sing 'meet you all the way, Rosaaaaaaannnaa yeah' as I go past.
Then they will smile and relax their shoulders, for I am not a self waffler, but merely a happy go lucky clown, singing to myself as I go about my business.
Hah! Pah! Bah!
Foolish passer-bys, how easily you are conned. I WAS yapping, I was giving out to an imaginary friend!
Do I feel silly? No, not really, Gamma did it all the time. One would join her out on the lawn where she would be busily hanging clothes while her fat dog sat beside her.
'That one, always has to have the last word and sure it doesn't matter what you say, oh sure they don't listen, there's none so blind as those that don't want to see, oh sacred heart, sure it would put years on you, years-'
'Gamma who are you talking to?"
'Eeek, Oh, alana, don't be sneaking up like that, you'll put the heart cross ways in me.'
'Yes but-'
'Go on now, go on now with yourself.'
'But who were-'
'An don't be hanging around that quarry, you'll get drowned.'
This immediately made me think of going straight to the quarry, so I would leave her be, and I wouldn't have gone twenty feet when I'd hear the steady drone of her voice again. 'That one, always sneaking up on people...
Also, when I was a child, I used to interview myself regularly.
'So Miss Fatcat, where were you when you discovered you'd won the Oscar?'
'Ohh Parky, It was just so unexpected! I was riding my bay stallion across the moors back to the hall when Agatha, the housekeeper, came out all a flutter! 'Ma'am!' She yelled, frightening the bejaysus out of my stead. 'Ma'am, you've won, you won the oscar for sheer all round fabulocity!' Well Parky, I was taken aback, let me tell you.'
'You must have had some idea you were going to win?'
'Nooooo, anyway, Oscars, it's all a bit silly really, let me tell you about the five wolves I single handedly rescued from the circus and trained to attack school teachers on command, that's a real hoot.'
Whatever esle, the self talker is never bored. I for one can't wait until I am old and have grandchildren so that they may laugh and ask, 'Who are you talking to Gamma?'
'Ghosts.' I will say and titter as they run off in terror to find their parents.