Word Nerd

I have this weird habit. I'll be talking to someone, and I'll see a sign or a box or something behind them, and I'll automatically take the words and read them backwards.

Why do I do this? I have no idea. It's something I've done for years, a habit. Most of the time I don't even know I'm doing it.

It's just part of my obsession with words.

Everywhere I go -- on the street or in restaurants or, sometimes, in the ladies' -- I read signs or menus or messages scrawled on stall doors. I critique the writing, the flow of words, the placement. Is the type too big? Too small? Is the spelling correct? Is the grammar spot on?

I know this is more than an occupational hazard. It's a little bit nuts.

At home I work on puzzles. I unscramble. I crossword. I jigsaw. Keep the puzzles coming. I say it's to keep my mind sharp, and I hope they do improve my brain power.

But honestly, I just get a kick out of words. Even malapropisms. Even the word "malapropism."

Or "bloviate," which is ironic, because I realize that's what I'm doing right now. Right here at 1:22 a.m. Because I can't sleep. Because the words are filling my head, spilling over in their attempt to come together in a meaningful way.

Yet, I suspect when I read this at a more reasonable time in the morning, I will wonder what possessed me. Was it the spirit of Noah Webster?

I wish it was Oscar Wilde.

Or Dorothy Parker.

Who aptly quipped, "A girl's best friend is her mutter."