I did a fair bit of talking today, mostly to my husband. We talk on the way too and from work. Mostly about our days but often about what we hear on the radio. Though, to be honest, I do most of the talking, at least on the way home. No surprise there, seeing as I don’t do a lot of talking at work.
Since I’m housekeeper in a hospital, the amount of time I spend talking is usually rather limited. I have a lot of rooms to clean and I don’t have time for a lot of chitchat. Lunch times are usually devoted to eating and reading whichever book I happen to have on hand, so not much talking takes place there, either.
I sometimes have conversations with patients, but many times they are trying to rest, are not in the mood to have a conversation with a total stranger, or are currently engaged in an important discussion with visitors, the nurse or doctor or a social worker. More often than not I find myself practically tiptoeing around as quiet as a mouse.
And my husband wonders why I make so much noise when I’m home.