Do I Talk To Myself?

Of course not, you wild giraffe-baboon! (I just pictured that. I don't recommend it. I think my brain just shorted out . . . uuuuhhh . . .)


Okay, okay, maybe I talk to myself a little bit. But only inside my head, presumably.
My most recent conversation with myself went something like this:

"Hey, remember that one time, when you used to - "
"What, spend more than 5 minutes on my hair?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Or, like, actually plan what you were going to wear?"
"I'm pretty sure that never happened."
"Really? I feel like you used to do that all the time."
"You're probably thinking of . . . I dunno, the prom maybe? 'Cause I think  I did my hair for that."
"Yeah that must be what I'm thinking of. For sure. Maybe homecoming too?"
"Most likely. But other than that . . . choir concerts?"
"Ha. HA. You're a comedian."
"You're right, dumb question. You just don't really care anymore, do you?"
"Did I ever?"
"Who knows?"
"Does it matter?"
"Uh . . . what were we talking about again?"
"AH! I NEED TO DO STATS HOMEWORK!"
"K-bye."

And . . . now you've had a look inside my head.
You'll probs never ask me what I'm thinking about now. But that's cool. Because it's an inside joke between me and myself anyway. Not even I is in on the joke. Be quiet, I, you're not invited!

Don't trust I. I is super conceited. I only cares about itself. I stick my hypothetical tongue out at you, I.