Busy in My Head


Someone asked me what’s wrong and I said, “Nothing, I’m just busy in my head,” and their reaction was laughter. That puzzled me. But I get that a lot.

When I’m thinking I stare out into the distance, stare at the wall or stare out the window. I don’t know what that looks like to other people. I think I might look a bit stressed or worried. I really don’t know, but it seems to cause concern.

But I’m fine. I’m just thinking. Most of the time I’m just thinking about my day. Or, I’m planning for something. I like to go inside the attic of my head and plan and find archived information. Sometimes I just like to go there and relax. It’s my own personal library of memories. I can remember the smallest details of years past, like the names of the people from my kindergarten class.

I think I must look really weird sometimes. As if I’m there, but not there at the same time. I’m just busy in my head. And no, you may not ask me what I’m thinking. I hate that question. My thoughts are private, just like your thoughts are private. And unless you’re very close to me, access to my head will be politely denied.