TMI!! TMI Overload! Somebody get me a Sandblaster!

[Sugar Smack]

The amount of information I was forced to absorb about one of my neighbors yesterday was bad enough. We were at a small cookout. She was on a Leaving Las Vegas-style alcoholic bender and giving me details, the terrible and lurid details and then one shocking thing revaled after another about her life. I am living in an apartment complex where I live alone, I work on my artwork on my off-time, and sometimes I want to get on DU or read or talk on the phone. Or stare at the wall.

So when I get knocks on my door every couple of hours from people who I don't know or barely know, drugged out of their minds and/or NEEDING something, I get jumpy. I usually don't answer the door, but the knocking gets persistent. I've complained about it, of course. The girl I'm talking about has knocked, too. I felt sorry for her. My neighborhood is full of people like this, and my relatively generous nature has been tried to the breaking point.

When one of these people approaches me outside on the way in, they start telling me some awful story that I really don't have time to hear. I feel profoundly slimed by it. Today at work, a girl who works in our company started telling me the details of how she has the stomach flu and needed to go home. Details from a person I barely know.

I need a sandblaster, earplugs, very dark glasses. Somebody hold me; I'm feeling fragile.

:cry: