Speechless? Well, that's a first!

So... I can't talk today. Literally. Got a cold on Friday, became a fever on Saturday night (right as I was describing to a room full of women where their G-Spot is, so that was fun!), a cough on Sunday, raspy voice on Monday (which made Monday night's party sound very sexy!) and this morning... totally MUTE. Can't make a sound much above a whisper. Well, actually, let me amend that... I can sort of make a noise above a whisper, but since it sounds like a cat screaming while simultaneously playing an out-of-tune viola and scratching its nails down a chalkboard, I choose not to go there unless absolutely necessary.

I have had a few clients call today and didn't want to just not answer the phone, so they got to hear my strange voice and became very confused and hung up quickly. I had to find someone else to do tonight's party, so Molly came over and made phone calls on my behalf to the hostess and other consultants until we got the party covered. It was fun for me... like having an assistant. She would repeat whatever question the person on the phone had just asked and I would whisper my response, which she would then relay back into the phone. I felt like an aging, eccentric diva on an old episode of Moonlighting.

Anyhow, so through all this silence today, I've noticed a strange thing. I'm a bit more lonely at home alone today than I normally am. Feel a little more isolated than usual. People are always asking me how I can stand to work at home, don't I get distracted (yes), watch too much TV (yes) and get lonely without someone else to talk to (not usually...) Don't get me wrong, I enjoy company when I can and there is always the odd day where I miss being in an office and sharing my day with other people. When I got home from Telethon this year, I had an exceptionally hard time reverting back to work-at-home mode and was sad for a few days remembering what it was like to be in an office full of people. (Fortunately, I also had the memory of working until 3AM to make me feel better when I got too sad.)

But normally, I'm pretty happy with my work-at-home situation. I like being around Richie, can't beat the commute, love that I can choose just not to shower, or wear the same outfit two days in a row (yes, only if it's clean... GEEZ MOM!) if I am not seeing the same people I saw the day before. And I very rarely get lonely and miss interaction. So why is it that my status as a temporary mute today should affect that? This is what I have fixated on today while simultaneously fixating on giving up the money I planned to make at the party tonight (grrrrrrr). And here is what I have decided.

It's cause I talk all the time. This won't come as a shock to anyone who knows me, and probably anyone who doesn't but reads this blog anyway. I talk. All day. I always did in an office with other people... off hand comments, long conversations, phone calls, you name it. But I was almost always talking. And it appears, although there is no longer anyone here to talk to, I have continued to talk my way through the day. I'd like to give myself the credit of believing that these conversations are probably all mental and not out loud, but today I have the proof that I say quite a few thoughts out loud when I'm alone.

See cause every word is an effort today. But if I don't talk for ten, fifteen, twenty minutes and focus on something else and then a random thought floats into my brain and my brain says "hey, that was smart... tell everyone else in the room that smart thought you just had" and I open my mouth to speak forgetting I have no voice... well... let's just say it's easier to notice the random mumblings when they sound like pigs being drowned and strangled at the same time. I guess, when my voice is normal, those random out loud mutterings just slip under the radar. If a comment is spoken in an empty room and there is no one there to comment does it make a sound? Now I know how the tree in the forest feels.

The feeling of weirdness got even stronger in the car. I felt so isolated in this very curious way. But I realized quickly that the explanation for that was easy. No voice=no yelling at talk radio. No voice=no singing along with my iPod very loudly (although... probably wouldn't have sounded much worse than when my vocal chords are working properly). Most importantly, no voice=no communication, friendly or otherwise, with other drivers. No nasty, snide comments on other people's driving. Had to make them all in my head. Which was an effort. An effort which led my mind to another question, which you might have already led yourself too.

If I'm talking this much in the car all the time, why have I not been pulled over for DWC (driving while crazy)? Certainly, if I drove by me while I was yelling at the POTUS 08 channel on XM, I would accelerate immediately to pass me by for fear I would be pulling a gun out of the glove compartment. (Remember that movie LA Story where Steve Martin was driving down the highway shooting his gun while talking to Marilu Henner about whether he had left his pants at her house? I love that movie. "Open season on the LA Freeway!")

Seriously, tho, what do other people think of me while they drive by? Do they notice? Do they think I have a bluetooth in and they just can't see it (in which case, if they are like me, they are probably judging me on that basis.) Or is what I do so completely normal that other people don't notice? I know that Molly likes to give shoutouts to other drivers to warn them of impending danger... "Don't you back into me, Mr. Mercedes." "That's an entrance, not an exit lady!" (I call her the traffic avenger. She gets really mad when she drives sometimes. Makes me giggle.)

And finally, this is the other thought that came to me today. You know how, when you lose one sense, it makes the others stronger? Well, if I lost the power of speech today, shouldn't I become instantly better at listening and remembering conversation? You would think, right? But I went to the doctor and he gave me some spray stuff for my throat and I swear he told me how many times I need to spray it each hour but I can't remember. I mean, I think he said three, but I'm not sure... I'd call him and ask, but well, you know.

I'm sure there are some of you out there who are gleefully pondering a world of Sheri-Without-Speech. Probably would be a very different dynamic for everyone! In fact, the nurse at the doctor's office (who I happen to know because she used to sell Pure Romance... holy coincidence Batman) said to me "This is making you crazy isn't it?" To which I rasped "I'm going out of my mind." And she laughed, "Yeah, I knew you'd have a problem. You're a talker like me." Thank God she added the "like me" part or I might have taken offense.

But all you giddy folk thinking about me not being able to quip at the drop of a hat are forgetting the one casualty of this situation. Poor Richie! He probably thinks something is horribly wrong! It's so quiet in his house. His Mom isn't singing to him or barking at him to get out from underfoot in the kitchen, or even ordering him to sit at food time (thank GOD for hand signals.) His whole world has been turned upside down with the silence that surrounds him. Poor buddy. Even though is laying there on his back, looking like he has narry a care in the world, I know somewhere inside he is wondering why his Mom isn't talking to him today. Gee, I hope he doesn't think it was something he did!

Don't worry, little punkin. It won't be long before my voice has been restored to its former glory. (And it better be before Thursday, because I am NOT giving up my party again!) And when it comes back, I will celebrate with an out-of-key song or two, followed by some loud vocal exercises a la high school drama class (the tip of the teeth, the tongue and the lips) and ending with a disertation on why Dexter is currently the greatest show on television complete with a season three episode by episode breakdown of its virtues.

So there's that for us ALL to look forward to. Anyone wanna come over?