It’s official. Everyone at work thinks I’m crazy. I’ve been rehearsing my monologue all throughout my shift. I let them know I was doing a monologue yet somehow the crazy stares keep flying my way. I’m taking the fearful stares as a compliment to my acting talents. Even the guy who thinks he knows everything about everything gave me the crazy look. He thought the notes I was given were preposterous and clearly whatever class I was in was filled with lesser talents than him. I try, hopelessly, not be annoyed by his narcissism. At best, it’s amusing. At worst, it’s grotesquely condescending.
I kind of think that everyone else is crazy to not clearly know that I’m rehearsing a monologue. The words I am reciting are clear and concise. Nobody speaks in such a manner in real life. Or maybe they do and I don’t know any of them. I suppose it is a good exercise in not caring what other people think. Like the other day I walked in whispering the lines to myself and this girl pretty much gave me the strangest look. It was mixture of confusion, fear and bitchiness all wrapped in one face. I couldn’t help but shrink a little on the inside.
But I guess everyone at work already thought I was crazy because apparently I talk to myself. I do not. I simply repeat instructions so I can remember them. Or mutter insanely funny jokes under my breath which I would be mortified if nobody laughed. Or begin conversations with people I think are listening when it turns out they weren’t. Or I sing to myself. Singing to yourself is not a crazy thing to do. Plus, I don’t care what any of them think of me anyway.
But no I assure you – I am not crazy. I am eccentric. Dedicated to the memorization and delivery of this monologue. Crazy/bitchy looks and all.
Waking Dreams Up 