Sometimes I wish Brita made filters for our minds or, at least, specifically for my mind.

It’s true. I tend to not be the best at the whole thinking before speaking thing. The garbage swirling around in my mind just seems to spew out into the world… unfiltered.

At times, this gift (sure.. let’s call it that) can be quite useful. It often (not always) means I think good on my feet.  I react well under pressure. And I can be quite witty (or at least to myself I am).

But then there are those other occasions …

It was a Saturday afternoon. I’d sat around my house all day lounging in sweatpants large enough to fit a baby hippo (true fact) doing absolutely nothing. The faint cries of rabid tots and teens roaming in the out of doors broke my concentration. With my eyebrow raised, I folded down the corner of my very deeply profound reading material – the latest Glamour magazine – and looked out through my slightly dingy windows (I really needed to hire someone to clean them). And I discovered it was one of those perfect spring days. Not a cloud in the sky. Birds chirping. Buds blooming. And here I was, dirty, lazy, and inside.

Suddenly disgusted with myself, I showered and began to dress in my running attire. It was then that I noticed a huge hole in the bottom of one of my running shoes. I shrugged my shoulders, slid into my flip flops, and decided to visit my most favorite store in the world, Dick’s Sporting Goods.

I walked through the double doors and nearly squealed in delight when I saw rack after rack of clearance apparel and shoes. An hour later, I found myself giddily pushing an overflowing cart to the checkout.

The lady in front of me smiled in response to my quite impressive collection of discount spandex and said, “They have the best sales, don’t they?”

Nodding a little too enthusiastically, I responded, “Yes, I love Dick’s!”

Everyone around me began giggling. Great job, Lisa.

Mortified, I felt my face redden and I began looking around to see how many people had been witness to my unfiltered silly comment. The creepy, lanky man behind me winked and said, “Good to know.”

Ugh.

If I had thought on my response for just a mere second or two, I would have perhaps decided to go with, “I love this place” instead.

But I didn’t.

Thinking before speaking. It’s a good practice to employ. I’m still working on it…

L.M. Stull is the author of A Thirty-Something Girl, Contemplations, and a whole bunch of other stuff she’s trying to get a publisher to publish. But… you probably already know that if you’re here.

Have a Laugh Out Loud Life Lesson you want to share?
Email me at Lisa AT lmstull DOT com