I have taken in the past few years to talking to myself. Now everyone talks to themselves once in a while. I’ve always spent a lot of time in a sort of day-dreamy fantasy state which involved men telling me I was beautiful and my dreams coming true…oh, wait…we already talked about that. Recently the conversations with myself have become almost constant and not always in my head. The monkey chatter has escaped from the zoo. I rehash conversations that didn’t go as I’d hoped. The interesting thing about that is sometimes they haven’t even happened yet. I’m defending myself against slings and arrows that may never even occur. It’s only recently when I was looking at an old program from a college theater production that a friend had posted and I saw my name and thought, “Was I there?”, that I realized I’ve been living with the chatter so long, I have huge gaps in my past. People that I know I know, but I can’t remember how or in what context. Shows I did, kids I was friends with. What a shame that so much of what makes me who I am is a blur. I spent so much time wanting people to like me, that I can’t remember some of the wonderful people who really did. I was so scared that I wouldn’t be popular and the kind of person that everyone wanted to be with, I got scareder and shyer and crankier. Now, I’m faced with the life I’ve created and the “Golden Opportunity” (Thanks, again, Gila) to live in the present with the truths of my life. To make amends to people I’ve treated unkindly or neglectfully. Most of all, to make amends to myself. I am the one who has lived my life with my head in the clouds. It’s time to hit the ground running. Ok, maybe just walking. With a limp.