Agnes by Tony Cochran for November 11, 2013

I tend to talk to my cats. If I can’t find my glasses or misplace my keys, I blame them and pretend scold so that I don’t have to admit it’s my fault. They take it all in stride and just give me great purrs.

Any whining Agnes does when she’s proven wrong by herself, will hopefully be drowned out by her gloating cos she proved herself right!

I yell at myself for making bad decisions, then look in the mirror and laugh at myself for being silly.

See, I told you so.

I talk to the dog. He looks at me and tells me I’m a genius. My cat, on the other hand…

Gotta love Agnes!

Agnes is her own worst enemy. (But the enemy of her enemy is her friend, so… I’m going to have to talk to myself about this one.)

Waaaaaaaaay past

I often talk to myself to practice articulation for later. It doesn’t come naturally to me. But I clam up if somebody comes by.

Talking to yourself isn’t insanity. Arguing with the voices and losing the arguements leads to insanity.