I'm sorry. You were telling me about your trip, and I'm sure it was very interesting, but my internal committee started butting in, and I missed your point.
What committee, you ask? I hope I'm not the only person who has one. Seems like everywhere I go, they're always right there, muttering in the background, and the older I get, the harder it is to keep them in line.
Let me introduce you:
Chairperson: Let's call her Polite Me. She's friendly and efficient, always happy to start a conversation and glad to see you. Unfortunately, the rest of the committee is less cooperative.
Inner Child: She has the attention span of a gnat. Start a serious conversation, and she's like a kid running off down the grocery aisle. She's the one dropping pencils off the balcony during the sermon in church.
Old Codger: Can't hear most of what's said, so talk... really... slow... She's usually just thinking about going home.
Worrier: Everything's about me, OK? Is my hair OK? Oh, no, there's a stain on my shirt!
Obnoxious Teenager: She sits with her chair tilted back and her feet on the table, rolling her eyes and texting rude comments on her phone.
As you can imagine, all these various voices make it hard to focus sometimes. For instance, I happened to bump into someone I know from church last week. Here's how our conversation went:
You: Hi, Heather! Nice to see you!
Polite Me: Oh, Elaine! It's been ages! How are you?
(At this point, my committee starts muttering in the background.)
Old Codger: I don't remember this person. Who is she? Do we know her?
Polite Me, out of the corner of her mouth: She's from church, remember? She's been in Phoenix for the winter.
Worrier: Oh, my God, I'm forgetting things more and more. Is this normal? Am I getting a brain clot?
Teenager: (with an exasperated sigh) Will you just shut up for once? You're so lame.
Polite Me: So how was Phoenix?
You start telling me, and I'm trying to keep up my end of the conversation, nodding and smiling, but it's a losing cause.
My Inner Child: This is stupid! I want to talk about our new cat!
Old Codger: My feet hurt. How long is this going to go on? Can we go home yet?
Worrier: Dang, how does she get her hair to look that good? How come I can't look like that?
Teenager: How come we never go anywhere fun in the winter? I hate winter!
Here's where it all went off the rails. Smiling, I said:
Polite Me: Oh, my, it sounds like you had a wonderful time.
You, looking startled: Well, I wouldn't call a hip replacement a wonderful time.
* * * * (Alarm Bells Sound) * * * *
Worrier: Oh, no! She's onto us!
Polite Me: (out of the corner of my mouth) Will you guys please SHUT UP! (to Elaine): I mean, er, apart from that. (smiling brightly) You're looking so well!
Now, I have to wonder what her internal committee is thinking at that point, so let's bring them into the conversation:
Polite Elaine: (muttering under her breath) Humph! She hasn't heard a word I said!
Elaine's Worrier: Nobody ever listens to me!
Polite Elaine, smiling at me graciously: Yes, the physical therapy is really helping.
Elaine's Old Codger: For God's sake, can I please sit down now? My hip is killing me!
Elaine's Inner Child: Hey, look! Wow, I like her purse! Can I have one like that?
Polite Me and Polite Elaine ended the conversation hastily, but I'm not sure either of us were very satisfied. Needless to say, I had to have a serious talk with my team afterwards, but I'm not sure it helped.
I've gone on way too long here, I suppose. By now your Teenager is rolling his or her eyes, and your Inner Child has wandered off to see if there are any cookies left, so I'll just add one brief thought.
If you ever get the feeling talking with me - or anyone, for that matter - that we're really not getting it, or just plain not listening, give us a little slack. We've got a lot on our minds.
So, what were we talking about again?
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