The bubble over my head


Everybody has one. Whether you are conscious of it or not, we all walk around through life with an invisible cartoon bubble over our heads. It’s the unfiltered version of who we are and what we observe, think and feel at any given moment of any given day. It’s doing everything in its power to get you to put your foot into your mouth just by allowing it to take over for just one minute. You do know what I’m talking about, don’t you?

I can’t possibly be the only person who lives this way.

Or maybe I am.

I pride myself on being a nonjudgmental human being. Really, I do. That I might not like or agree with someone’s taste in food, belief system, choice of hair color, sense of justice, décor aesthetic, politics or opinions doesn’t mean we can’t all still be amigos. It’s not like I have to like what you’re serving for dinner any more than you have to appreciate my flair for the dramatic or unusual. And that’s just what’s for breakfast. I have a number of friends with very different ideas about life and how to go about living it and we still manage to maintain friendly relations. For starters, we live in different states. I’m running out of them.

The older I get, the more that bubble over my head is sometimes (okay; more often than not) yearning to be free. It’s the voice (of reason, no doubt) that is screaming, “Are you crazy??!!” while the action figure that is me in person forces a smile and nods in agreement as you inform me that you are going to reduce your carbon footprint by never grilling outdoors again. It’s the wordsmith inside me who is dying to tell you that magnifying mirrors were invented specifically for razor-challenged people like yourself, as your profusion of nose hair makes me wonder how you ingest oxygen.

It gets worse. I might cut loose and tell you (or somebody else) why I could never be married to, work for or go into business with you for much more serious reasons.

But I wouldn’t want to burst your bubble.

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