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I’m useless at small talk. This week just gone I found myself in the ladies loo at work chatting about the positioning of the hand dryer and how a man must have installed it. I even suggested better walls for it to be placed on. We both did an “aaah, men” type comment while inside I kicked myself for being so rubbish at being unable to talk about something we cared about, rather than something which neither of us were bothered about.

What’s worse is I STARTED IT.

I’ve only myself to blame. Being female it was probably the female equivalent of two colleagues having a conversation at the urinal or something.

Which kind of makes me fearful for Blog Camp this Thursday. If anyone attending happens to read this, please please please don’t start a conversation about the position of the hand dryer as I may bore you to death. I put it down to the shyness that most people don’t realise I have (I just talk and talk and talk to cover it up).

If you meet me at Blog Camp this Thursday and I’m shouting, it’s because I have no idea how loudly I talk thanks to having had tinnitus for the last eight years. Sometimes I talk and I feel like I’m yelling and other times I feel like I’m quiet. I have no idea. I do try to talk normally.

If I’m just being dull, well, I apologise. That’s just me. Sorry.