I observe. A lot. My sister, Seester, is always telling me I think too much and have too many ideas, and by the way would I stop spouting off about them already, I’m making her head spin.
She’s my best friend, so she says it with humor.
Most of the time.
I’m always coming up with ideas on how to improve–well I would say improve, she would say that only I think every idea is an improvement. Let’s split that half-way and say that I have ideas about how to change what is and ideas about why something else isn’t the way that (I think) it should be.
Seester might approve of that explanation.
Now I’m married to a fellow who finds me entertaining way more often than he finds me irritating. So far, unlike Seester, he hasn’t told me to stop speaking already. Maybe when he knows me for fifty years, he’ll feel differently.
That brings me back to my first statement. I observe all the time and ask questions about what I observe. It’s not being judgmental that makes me ask, it’s a true desire to know and to understand what it is I’m seeing. So please don’t take offense if something I jabber about strikes you wrong. I wouldn’t be mean on purpose, but accidentally I do screw up.
I’ve got a million questions like a three-year old and I’ve got as many opinions as a quartet of old men playing poker.
There you have it—read on if you want to, but if the ride I’m on drives you nuts, I warned you.