I’m a Walking Thesaurus and I Can’t Help It
I’m a walking thesaurus and it’s becoming a problem … or is it an issue? I do it sitting down too, not just while walking. When someone is talking, I blurt out their last word or I’ll throw out a better, more descriptive, illustrative, colorful, eloquent and vivid word to help
them.
But they don’t want help – wherein lies my problem (and possibly invoking restraining orders called peaceful contacts).
I know what you’re thinking, too. Who died and made you Ms. Verbal Editor, eh?
I can’t help it.
It’s not like I’m from New Jersey and talk a-mile-a-minute (not that everyone from New Jersey talks a mile-a-minute), but it seems everyone around me (here in California) talks very slowly, like I’m in a dream.
It’s others who come up with the worst words to describe their experiences. Or they do that long minute pregnant pause with the annoying “um” to go with it. This type of communication just screams inside my head with, “Charleen, help him (or her) out. Quick! What’s the word they’re fishing for?”
It’s not me, it’s them – I silently convince myself.
If they’d just be more accurate in conveying their messages, I wouldn’t have to jump in and save their verbal-communication-day with an amazingly precise and scrupulous word. Not trying to toot my own vernacular horn here, but you’d think they’d be praising my
efforts.
Instead, they roll their eyes, grunt, reluctantly repeat my word with disdainful resolve, or (and this one hurts) ask me to let them finish their own sentence pleasssse. It happened today.
When I get that type of “shush,” I realize I have a dilemma and things are getting way out of control. Is there a 12-step program for this?
Hi, my name is Charleen and I’m a sentence-finisher. Welcome Charleen!
Only I’m not welcome.
People around me would rather polish off their own sentence with the most tedious, dreadful, hideous, unexciting, wearisome, humdrum, uninspiring, thoughtless, non-descriptive, mind-numbing, sleep-inducing, inaccurate, lackluster word they can muster. And they’re perfectly happy with it too, borderline proud.
Really?
So, I whisper a silent prayer. Forgive them Father, for they know not what better word to use. I also pray (heavily) those around them will somehow miraculously understand the message conveyed. They usually do.
So, it is me.
Ultimately, I’m learning to keep my mouth shut. To speak and let speak. To toss my internal thesaurus while others are talking … or is it yapping?
