Talking to Yourself

I recently filled a work placement at the Chippenham Job Centre for a month and a half and I have a lot to say about that, but my main points will have to wait for another day. What I’d like to talk about is how, every day, I’d have to go upstairs to my mailing room by myself and arrange all of their outgoing and incoming post. This could take anywhere between half an hour and an hour (and on odd occasions more than that).
    Most of the time I was up in that room doing the job by myself (only occasionally being joined by somebody else) and I have to say I got a little bored. I’d sit and think of better times and how things had gotten a lot boring since so many of my friends had moved away. So, I have to say that I’d occasionally just talk to myself to make the whole thing more entertaining; I’m not sure what it was, but I certainly enjoyed it more when I did. I suppose it may be a psychological thing; when I can hear a voice talking, on a subconscious level I can enjoy it as if I were with other people or the act of talking has that same affect. I could be completely wrong (I’m afraid I don’t know as much about psychology as I’d like to), but I just thought it was interesting that I was happier when talking to myself.
    That’s the first sign of insanity? Well, never mind.

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