Internal argument

I took my usual morning walk about an hour ago. But I argued with someone as I walked. Myself.

I lumbered the four blocks to Wayne State University's athletic fields, which I typically make a circle or two of as I go. They're about a mile around so a couple loops takes up a big chunk of my daily grind. I arrived at the corner of Warren and Trumbull and began hiking east along Warren.

"What are you doing?" my internal voice asked me, vaguely panicked.

"Taking my walk?" I responded to me questioningly.

"I know that, but what are you doing?"

"What do you mean what am I doing?"

"You're going counterclockwise!"

"Yeah, so?"

"We go clockwise around Wayne State!" my voice demanded of me.

"So I'm doing it differently. Big whoop."

"But, but..."

"But what?"

"But we go clockwise around Wayne State!" insisted me.

"Who is this we? It's just me and, and, me."

"You know what I - we - mean. We go north on Trumbull and, you know, clockwise. It's what we always do."

"Not always," I responded smugly to that guy in my head who sounded a lot like me, as I continued resolutely eastward on Warren.

So I walked around WSU counterclockwise. Twice. But now I'm wondering if maybe I should have went clockwise. If maybe I ought to retake my walk.

But I hate being told I told you so.