Perhaps because I haven’t been able to eat much over the past few days (stomach bug), I’ve been gorging on Jane Austen. Watching Death Comes to Pemberley and re-reading Persuasion has had its own side effect. I’ve noticed this before. For some reason, my diction starts to resemble Regency English and it takes a while to work it out of my system. I start using words that haven’t been seen in print for more than fifty years. My sentences get even longer than usual. I can hear myself using semi-colons and m-dashs. And I stop swearing, damn it.
I once had to talk to my mother in this state. She thought I’d overdosed on PBS.
Fortunately, I was back to my pungent, over-educated Twenty-first century idiom by the time I went back to work this morning. That would have been dreadfully awkward.