That little voice…

When I was thinking about what I wanted to post today I came up with an idea. Actually I didn’t come up with it, so much as it was whispered to my by the little voice in the back of my head you know the voice?

It’s the one that makes inappropriate suggestions during meetings. It’s the voice that pipes up, right while you’re being reprimanded. And it’s the voice that always has something a little snarky to say to the person in a position of power

Anyway.

Today the little voice thought that perhaps I should have a little fun, and share with you all a few of my most embarrassing cringe worthy moments. I mean, I’d only be telling the entire internet, right?

For some reason I ran with it. As I was jotting them down I saw something in common with all of them.

It was the little voice. The one that assured me I was making the right decision. The voice that thought it would be so hilarious, or make me so popular if I just took this course of action…

Example one:

Like the time when I was 11 and I wrote notes to my older cousin pretending to be a friend of the family. The voice assured me it would be hilarious.

‘They’re going to laugh so hard!’ the voice crowed. I listened nodding in agreement. Of course they would. It was funny.

When the notes were discovered my cousin went right to her parents. The adults all read the notes and agreed: he needed to be talked to. I sat there horrified that they were taking them seriously, I mean, they were a joke. They were funny right?!

It turns out they were not funny. They were creepy, and horrifying, and awful. I wanted to crawl into a cave and hide under a rock so that I could cringe into a tiny stone sized ball. Better yet, I wanted to go to my room and pretend I had no idea who had written them.

‘You should just leave it all up to him to take the blame.’ The voice said wisely. ‘If he had written them, he would deny it, so it’s not like they’ll believe him.’

I took a good hard look at my conscience and realised that I couldn’t let my friend hang for my crimes. My stupid not funny badly thought out crimes.

I also realised that the notes were written in my handwriting and on my heart shaped kitten writing pad – it seemed that this voice of mine wasn’t actually that smart.

I confessed to my Dad later that day, and spent approximately 11 years trying to forget how shamefully, cringingly, awful I was. Now the memory is back in Technicolor… *cringe*

Example two:

More recently, there was the time I got drunk and listened to the voice. I was pleasantly fuzzy, and warm, and enjoying the night, so when the little voice mentioned that perhaps this would be the best time to get a few things of my chest I didn’t immediately discount the idea.

‘You know what?’ I thought hazily ‘perhaps the voice is right. I should let everyone know how I really feel. It’s bound to impress them and make me much more popular.’

What I chose to get off my chest was the fact that I thought one of our flatmates was a total whore cow bitch. This of course would be the same flatmate I had pretended to be best mates with, knowing that she could be a little difficult to live with if we weren’t on side, and the same flatmate who was sitting well within hearing distance.

She heard it all, and from all accounts, I didn’t hold back.

When someone finally managed to get it into my alcohol infused brain what I’d done, I decided I’d fix it.

The little voice concurred ‘you’ve always been excellent at smoothing over conflict’ it said. Again I listened.

I weaved my way out to the lounge, where my flatmate was stewing, plonked myself down on a couch, and tried my legendary diplomatic skills. Only it seemed they weren’t so legendary, because she definitely was not impressed. In fact I believe she called me a two faced bitch.

Flat relations were somewhat strained until she finally left the house.

*cringe*

I totally accept that my trashy two faced bitch seems to be on show when I have cheap vodka in my system, but I’m sure it wouldn’t have reached the epic heights of cringe-worthyness it did if the voice hadn’t been there whispering and nudging away at me.

Conclusion:

That voice of mine, the one that pipes up every so often with a suggestion? Boy am I glad I stopped feeding it cheap vodka.

Now I only have to worry about all the other times it pops up with a totally hilarious suggestion that will make you so popular!

Have you ever done anything shockingly stupid, as a direct result of listening to the little voice at the back of your head? I want details…

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “That little voice…

  1. this isnt my little voice, but the voice in my friends older sisters head decided it would be hilarious to hide from our parents when they decided it was time for them to go home. And the voice must have been smart, cos we were hidden for ages. In the end our worried parents went and asked my Nana who was housesitting next door if she had seen us, and she sprained her ankle hurrying down the stairs. Needless to say we were in a fair bit of touble. And I still feel guilty even though this would have been like 15+ years ago. Thanks voice.

  2. It’s not so much of following as arguing with that voice. In public. Rather heatedly. So yeah, that voice, a total bitch.

  3. Yes. My little voice is plain evil. What I did was not embarassing, but unforgivable. And nope, I won’t say what it was. I’m glad you had the courage to confess to your dad.

  4. I thought that particular gene was only passed down thru the males of the whanau. Both your Brothers have it. Think they get it from me. I am constantly hearing Blah Blah Blah from offenders and thinking of something funny to say back.
    Bit embarassing when its on video tape and it gets played in a Court hearing.
    Fraid you’re doomed with the ability of thinking outside the square and putting quirky endings to other peoples sentences. God it’s good though eh?!
    We Google earthed and could see Bud on the tramp(oline). Cool

  5. Yes…I have that little voice. Unfortunately, mine is an evil little 12 yr. old – that wants to get into fights…and hold grudges…and say nasty things. Oh, I wish it would grow up…so I could too!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s