Thanskgiving and the Inside of My Head

So, having lost my voice completely, I've been contemplating how different my inner monologue and outer words are (and those moments when I'm tired, tipsy or sated on something and the inside and outside voices co-mingle to an unsettling degree).

My inner monologue without any sort of startling interruption (like the current one shouting move out, move out, move out omg so you don't kill him with the broom) goes sort of like this:

"That step should work, why doesn't it work, it works in my head... oh my god -insert name of editor, art director, staff member, etc - are you trying to make me crazy? Right right. Nothing's personal. Nope that's personal... C'mon, c'mon, e-mail me dammit!! ...Character A should do this, it would totally... oh now what? No, no we are not doing that. Tell him no! Seriously. No. Oh god, please tell my boss to stop singing Barry Manilow next door, Mandy, Angel sang Mandy. Angel was not as hot as Booth... I wonder what my odds are of getting laid this weekend are... No, you still cannot do that... Seriously, Are you stupid? ... Oh god, Dad, becoming a Dodgers fan is not really a legitimate reason to call me... Why can't I remember how to say fuck you in Latin this morning. I knew it yesterday...nope, that still means to fuck sheep. Dammit."

Honestly? If any of my co-workers knew how often I was contemplating either a)shoes b)writing c)sex or d) their IQs, they'd be appalled. Particularly at the vast and sundry combinations of a, b, & c that occur at the same time, occasionally when I'm talking to them (these intersections never involve the co-workers. Rest assured. They'd also be appalled at how often I swear in my head. Although, given my tendency to swear out loud, they probably wouldn't be surprised. (I don't necessarily advocate that kind of language at work, but it's sort of become a necessary evil of working entirely with men who will push to find out if your metaphorical balls are bigger than their actuals).

Also, this week is Thanksgiving, a favorite holiday of mine, and is always a time to be grateful for what I have: health, opportunity, friends and family whom I love, who love and support me back, a giant black cat who survived this year's excursion, a job, a vehicle, a good brain and the will to use it, a place to live and food to eat. None of those things are to be taken for granted.

Finally, I have started a countdown clock on the Facebook.com account for moving out of the apartment. I feel like I need a lot of things around me to encourage this change. I... I've never looked for an apartment for myself. These things have always fallen into my lap, and now I very much need a sort of impetus and direction that is unusual to me.