The Queen’s English Takes Over My Thoughts
You know that little voice in your head? The one that narrates your life, offers unsolicited advice, and occasionally berates you for that last slice of pizza? Mine has always been a bit of a character. A touch sarcastic, prone to dramatics, but generally relatable. Until one Tuesday morning, when I woke up and it was speaking with a posh British accent.
I was reaching for my trusty, old alarm clock (the digital one kept short-circuiting my dreams) when I heard it. Clear as day, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Benedict Cumberbatch after a strong cuppa announced, “Right then, time to rise and shine, you wouldn’t want to be late for the day, would you?”
I froze. Had I accidentally downloaded a British language pack in my sleep? Was this some bizarre side effect of binge-watching “The Crown”? I cautiously responded, “Excuse me, who said that?”
“Why, darling, it’s me! Your inner monologue, just with a spot of an upgrade,” the voice chirped back.
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