This is not something that I am proud of, but let's spend a little time sharing, shall we? Perhaps sharing will let the metaphorical* crazy out.
Sometimes, I am concerned that people can hear what I'm thinking. Like, really. Like, for real-real, not for play-play. This happens particularly in my grad classes, where I would like to keep up the facade that I am a reasonably intelligent person, and not someone who occasionally lets his mind wander to favorite Ren and Stimpy episodes when we're discussing the ramifications of a writer's ethnicity on the work that he/she produced. Nevertheless, I will sometimes provide some unspoken color commentary,** and another member of the class will look at me, and I swear that they have heard what I thought.
And so, what I do, is to pretend to scream at the top of my lungs in my head under the assumption that if everybody can hear me that everyone will look at me due to this outburst.*** I will then have solid evidence that I am not crazy. This looks like this:
Student A: I think it shows an obvious sense of imperialism for Peter Brook, an Englishman, to adapt the Mahabharata, an Indian set of scriptures, for the stage.
Me: (in my head) It's log! Log! It's big, it's heavy, it's wood!
Student A: (Glancing at me)
Me: (in my head) AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!
Everyone else: (Nothing. No response. They're very tricky.)
This line of thinking is not normal, people. This is not normal.
P.s.: Dear Sweetspotsweetie: I will happily accept a diagnosis from your husband. Very happily.
**Even some that is irrelevant to the discussion! Zing!
7 hours ago