We had an ice-breaking exercise in a meeting at work the other day: we had to write down three things on a piece of paper, two of which were true and one of which was a lie.
I realised this morning that I messed it up completely: the thing I labled a lie was in fact true (it included a negative which confused me), and one of the truths was – well not a fib exactly – but with added fiber.
- I’ve been north of the Arctic Circle, and seen the Midnight Sun
- I’ve never been to Greece
- I make my own curtains
I guess this means I am incredibly honest. (Oh, look – admirable me). Or incredibly incompetent at lying. (Silly me). Or just crap at thinking up interesting things on the spot. (Stupid me).
I do wish that I’d realised that the first one could be called a lie though: it was 23.15 when we were north of the Circle, and I had a long drive south so we didn’t stick around for the magic moment, but why spoil a good story?
So maybe I just don’t know when I am lying.