Guten Abend
Just lately I've noticed that my voice is becoming higher and higher pitched. This worries me. I've only become aware of the fact slowly, over recent days. I think it comes from spending a lot of time with very small children.
Ugh, that just made me sound all fake! Like I put on a sappy high pitched voice for little children! But really, one sort of has to. And it's instinctual. And makes one sound less like a big scary person, which is always nice, particularly around little kids. But when I found myself buying a bus ticket at a pitch only bats can hear I made up my mind to spend all of tomorrow doing Jeremy Irons impersonations, just so my voice doesn't decide to permanently default to its Minnie Mouse setting. Wow: in my almost non-existent research for this post I learned that there actually is a market for people who want deeper voices and are willing to pay money to buy a book of exercises or even get testosterone injections (I'm not even kidding) to make their voices deeper. I am sort of offended to note that they only cater to the masculine market. But I have plenty enough testosterone as it is anyway, I'm sure.
I really want it to not rain tomorrow. I have washing that has been on the line for over a week now, and more in the washing basket that needs to take its place.
I'm lonely for reading material again. Reading too much Stephen Fry at a time is like overdosing on Krispy Kreme doughnuts.
I should write a book blog (I have a book blog, for the previously ignorant!) about Unseen Academicals and Never Let Me Go, but I'm not in the frame of mind for it.
Good night and sweet repose, my dears.
I have an infantile sense of humour:
"One of the advantages of being disorganized is that one is always having surprising discoveries."
No comments:
Post a Comment