There she goes again.  That chatter.  That voice in my head that directs me like a traffic cop.  That sound of my non-existent older sister or nagging mother-in-law that won’t stop offering advice about what to do, how to act, where to be, and when to sleep.  She just won’t shut up.   From the moment I rise to the moment I rest she is there, nestling on my shoulder, whispering in my ear.  Do. More. Better.

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And yes, she is a figment of my imagination. I’m not experiencing any psychological disorder or seeing things that aren’t real.  But she feels real, and she makes me feel things I don’t always want to think about. Or shouldn’t really think about.  She’s my monkey mind, and she just won’t shut up.  And she whispers…Be. More. Faster.

Thoughts spin around my brain when I’m alone and when no children are needing me, no husband is nearby, and for that one split second it appears no outside demands are asking to suck me dry.  But that’s where Miss Monkey fits in.  She reminds me of the to do list, the to don’t list, and everything in between.  She moves me from the kitchen to the laundry room to the bedrooms and back.  She sits me down at the computer to write, then nudges me up to move the clothes to the dryer-oh wait-don’t forget to change the air filter and water the plants.  The dog needs a walk-gotta do that. Maybe I can stop at the bank…ACK! The tomato sauce is boiling over and now sticks solid on the bottom of the pan. Another tick on the to do list gets added.  Back to the computer-DING! The dryer is finished and as I walk to the laundry room she reminds me that the packages need mailing and the garbage cans are still on the curb.  Then grade the papers.  Kids have homework.  Practice.  Lessons.  Would that telephone please ring at a more convenient time; I don’t need to talk to a telemarketer EVER again.  The dog barks for his walk.  And she yells…Do. More. Now.

Seriously?  I’m so young!  I’m just a mom, a wife, a worker, a writer, a….woman.  Why won’t Miss Monkey just shut up and let me think? I could get it done if she. just. would. stop. that. incessant. chatter. that. reminds. me. I. am. human?  And she screams…Do. It. NOW!

She makes me think.  She makes me think I should trust her, not my gut.  Wait-who is she?  How dare she leave me thinking like this.  Making me feel upset, and vulnerable, and sometimes very alone.  She makes me forget where I started, and where I’m going.  She spins me around until I f.a.l.l.

But I’m not really, alone, am I?  You hear her too…don’t you?

Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

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