Talking to inanimate objects

A friend brought up in conversation on Facebook chat that it’s weird when I talk to inanimate objects. So I said to my computer screen, “Really, doesn’t everyone do that?” My computer screen declined comment, but I don’t think I’m the only person who talks to inanimate objects. I’ve witnessed plenty of people yelling at inanimate objects that aren’t working. I do that too, but I like to mix it up and dole out compliments when warranted. For example the other night the underside of my pillow was refreshingly cold during the hot summer heat and I thanked it for the good work. Is that really so strange? I’m pretty sure as a child I was encouraged to talk to inanimate objects because I certainly talked more than any real person wanted to listen. That last sentence was me laying the foundation to blame society if everyone decides I am indeed crazy.  In my quest to decipher how crazy I am, I’m asking the internet (which is basically a black hole of crazy) if my conversations with inanimate objects are super strange. Here’s some instances that prompt me to converse with non-humans.

Driving alone

Driving is boring. For the first thirty minutes my inner dialogue enjoys the freedom of solitude and the open road. Then I remember that I’m twenty years old and thus completely unsure of my whole future and I don’t want to spend the seven hour drive home contemplating that headache of a reality. I cope by singing loudly and talking when I get bored. I like to pat my cars dashboard lovingly when she makes it up a particularly steep hill. I also enjoy discussing awful drivers with my steering wheel. I spent a good ten minutes the other day telling my steering wheel how much I hated this car I was stuck behind on a no passing one lane street that thought it was acceptable to go under the speedlimit. Steering wheel feels it was a shitty situation and was quite understanding. All around talking to cars proves quite therapeutic.

Watching a movie

I enjoy participating. I raise my hand in class and I’m not about to sit through a whole movie and not give my opinion. I will tell the movie theatre screen/my small tv/my computer screen, what I think of everything that’s happening. This occurs particularly frequently in scary movies where I get incredibly frustrated by the main characters dumb decisions. Stop sticking your head in creepy places and why are you splitting up? Dumb! Also I get emotionally attached to fictional characters. I cried at The Amazing Spider-man and The Dark Knight Rises (both of which I thoroughly enjoyed). Why? Because I have a heart you soulless non-crying individuals. (This next sentence contains a spoiler for the The Amazing Spider-man if you’re unaware the movie involves a spider biting a man)  Anyways, I also yelled at spider-man when he was about to get bitten because I adore him and hate spiders. They are gross and one of very few things I discriminate against.

Using my computer

There are two different types of communicating with my computer. One occurs when I’m asking it to hurry up and load or begging it not to delete that screen when I didn’t mean to click the “x.” The other, more common, computer communication occurs when people post dumb stuff and I immediately feel the need to say “really” in a super sassy voice to the only thing present, my computer. These reallies are often prompted by reading Facebook and encountering posts I can’t believe people admit on the internet. If we’re friends on Facebook and you post ridiculous statuses my computer and I have probably had a nice laugh about it. Sorry.


I’m a vegetarian in the not always vegetarian friendly midwest. This often leads to me picking sausage off my pizza or bacon bits off of foods that don’t need bacon. Stop putting bacon on everything! Anyways, this de-meating of my food often involves comments like, “I see you, you sneaky little sausage.” This is necessary because I want the sausage to know I’m the boss. It can’t hide from me. It’s important to establish authority in life and it’s easiest to do with things that can’t talk back to me.

Getting ready in the morning

These are the most explicit of my conversations with non-people. Mostly it’s directed towards my hair. As in, “what the super-naughty-words-and-angry-sentiments are you doing hair?” My hair is frustrating. It’s like raising a teenager. It does things I don’t want just to spite me and be independent. I just want to be friends! Why do you hate me hair, why? Then I like to torture it with a straightener until it answers me. Just kidding. That got a little dark. I in no way advocate torturing inanimate objects. Except maybe Furbies, I’m almost positive they’re all possessed.

So what’s the verdict? Am I crazy?

Let me know,



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