I am a complete and utter dork.
(Like that comes as a surprise.)
Yesterday, I had totally forgotten about my commentary running on Metro Connection, and, at about 1:56 in the afternoon, I was in my car, flipping radio stations. I stop on WAMU and - WHAM - I hear my own voice inside the car and nearly drive off the road. Is this stupid? Yes, of course. I mean, a reasonable person would, first of all, have remembered that she was going to be on the radio. And, secondly, she would not be disturbed by the sound of her own voice.
I, however, am not reasonable (it would appear) and, in case I haven't mentioned it before, I utterly loathe the sound of my own voice. It sounds awful to me. Makes me want to crawl under large pillows and howl in pain. Maybe this is not an uncommon phenomenon. But my voice on tapes and on the radio sounds nothing like the tones that rattle around in my increasingly empty head. And so, yesterday, I was so alarmed to hear myself, I nearly drove off the Pike and up onto a sidewalk by Bagel City.
Like I said, I am a dork.
So, today, I'm futzing around in the kitchen, bleaching the counters (it's like an OCD with me now, after the Great Rodent Invasion of '05) and I leave NPR on my little window radio while I wander down the hall to wash my hands. Like a crow to a shiny penny, I get distracted by the computer humming in the hallway and end up checking e-mail, perusing blogs, seeing if anyone's bid on my little set of Armenian Christmas ornaments on eBay (up to $12.50 - whoo-hoo!), and there I sit for far too long. Eventually, I remember the kitchen is still mid-clean and return.
Aaaaand nearly jump through the ceiling when I hear my damn voice again coming from the kitchen window. I forgot about the reply of Metro Connection on Saturday afternoon. And my bizarre sense of timing planted me right at the beginning of my commentary again. This time I listened. Usually, I'm hypercritical of my performance, hearing each overly large, asthmatic-sounding breath and noting where I could have done a better job with both writing and performance. But this time, I ignored my voice, and just enjoyed it.
It's fun doing the radio thing. It's nice to know that, somewhere else, someone is in their car or in their kitchen, listening to your thoughts and ideas. And you hope that at least one person is entertained.
(And you hope they don't have the same shuddering reaction to your voice that you do!)
I still didn't finish the damn kitchen. Best get to that right now.