I was ill

This week I suffered the most horrible, embarrassing illness. Perhaps you are familiar with it:

Verbal Diarrrhea.

It's debilitating. It's humiliating. It's hard to treat and cure.

A co-worker came into my office and asked me the relatively simple question of "what are you doing this weekend?"
And, OH MY the things that poured forth. I felt like I was having one of those out of body experiences, like the people who die and watch themselves from the corner of the room. As my answer turned from office courtesy to baring my soul, a little part of me floated to the ceiling and watched in disbelief. What in the world was I doing? "Shut up, Shut UP!!!!" I tried to tell myself.  But it didn't work. And for a good ten minutes I rambled on about compLETEly unrelated stuff.
My co-worker is very gracious and wonderful. I love her, and I think she rather likes me, also. She did, however, begin to assume the defensive "oh my JOHNSON, how am I going to escape??" stance. Her eyes looked panicked, and yet I yakked. And yet I yakked and felt embarrassed.
She finally fled my office, grabbed her book cart and said goodbye, while I followed in hot pursuit, throwing the remnants of a conversation at her. After she was gone, and the dust had settled, I realized what had transpired, and I was in awe. The disturbing kind of awe, not the blissful kind awe. How did this happen? Who possessed my body for ten minutes and forced me to say a plethora of stupid things? That's not really like me at work.
So, on my to-do list for today: see if they sell Pepto-Bismol for verbal ailments. I don't want that to happen again. Ever.