Ohhhh, this post is refreshing. I can relate because I'm either NOT going to say anything or I talk wayyyy too much. I can remember to sort of curb it (sometimes) when I'm sitting still and thinking about it, but it's pretty hard.
I'm the person who gets the joke 10 minutes after it's told unless you are kind enough to WRITE the joke down for me. Really. I can most usually understand written words and curb myself from typing most of the stupid thoughts that occur to me. Most of the time. (Maybe the other times are why you are really reading my blog? Scary.)
The other day I was in Wal-Mart, The Place of Evil. On my grocery list were laundry soap, Smarties, pop, detangling spray, the souls of the living, and frosting. Guess which one was helpfully added by Patrick. I guess they were out of stock.
Annyway. One of the shoppers was peeking at a product label for a minute (mac-n-cheese in a box), then reaching wayyy in and rearranging the whole display. Yeah, I do stuff like that sometimes, too. You can't just accidentally knock one thing down without neatening up EVERYTHING there before moving on with your shopping. I understand.
But since I was waiting for some photos to be printed, I had to hang out for a fairly long time. Maybe about 45 minutes... aimlessly wandering about the aisles. This lady had moved on to another aisle and was rearranging other stuff. Ok, that's odd. Her home life must be really awful, but her knicknack drawer is probably organized at least. More than I can say for myself.
Ta-da, the photos are finished and now it's time to pick up the refrigerated stuff on the other side of the store before heading out. Didn't want to put that into my cart and then wait forever while it got all stale. Passed by the lady yet again, rearranging things...
"OH! YOU WORK HERE! Thank God! I was beginning to feel *very sorry* for you. But you are WORKING." (oh blehh that just slipped out, keen statement of the obvious.)
"Yeah," she said rather noncommitally. "You gotta do what you gotta do."
Ohhhkayyyy... I am relieved she doesn't have extreme mental illness in the form of obsessive-compulsive Wal-Mart shelf rearranging, and she is talking of the economy and the crapfulness of her job. Only later did I realize this. Duh.