and then I said to myself...

I am thankful that no one is there to hear or record the conversations I have with myself as I get dressed in the morning. The Hub, a lifelong early riser, has long departed by that time of day. The maltipoos who reside with us are used to me and pay me know attention, really. And if they are, they aren't talking.
I am thinking maybe I picked up the habit from my Grandmother. She talked, not only to herself but also to the television. The conversations she had with herself were quite intelligent. Mine= not so much so, most of the time.
Often the topic of conversation is lost things. Now, where are my keys? Is this the day I am supposed to...
I think, like blogging, that talking to myself and my pets might just be therapeutic.