I have the shits.
I know, I know, "TMI," but let me just say this about that: I am so over that phrase. "TMI" is so like 2000-2001. I am a very open, honest person - you really have to be as a writer and online journalist (blogger, whatever) - and I am not so certain there is such a thing as "TMI," but then I am an odd sort.
I have heard some people's deepest, darkest secrets - things that I guess end friendships for some - and they really do not phase me. I rarely tend to view the person differently because, with me, it's largely in one ear, out the other. It isn't that I don't care, it's just that I don't want to remember things about people that could potentially embarrass or harm them, and I have a tendency to babble when I get nervous and spill everyone's secrets - including my own. But then, my life is largely an open book - whether I want it to be or not - for whatever reason (I am still trying to figure it out), I am a great source of speculation for everyone. A genuinely popular topic of discussion.
I guess what I'm saying is that I am not the person to whom you should confess your sins. Or anything, really. I used to be - I really did - in fact, I am so open and non-judgmental that I was exactly the person to whom everyone wanted to spill their deepest, darkest secrets!
That was before they started reading my work.
Truly non-judgmental to a fault - not so much so anymore. One too many strippers, two too many crackheads - by 30 years of age, you learn that being judgmental is more than just a part of life, it's vitally essential to your continued survival and the maintaining of your private possessions!
At any rate, I have the shits because a neighbor brought me some awful chicken and dressing last night and it was just horrible. I don't know what was in it or what was wrong with it, but it was truly bad. Of course, I couldn't say that to them and I was so tired of eating white beans that I went on and ate every last bite, but I honestly had to hold my breath for most of it. I know that's what has me ill today - that and my muscle relaxers. And my legal woes. And my financial woes. And my vehicular woes...
I have been blogging all morning, but I think I am going to take the rest of the day off and read. I still haven't gotten into the comics I received for like the past two months and I got the latest issue of WD yesterday, too. I haven't read an entire copy of WD or Smithsonian in months; they're just stacking-up, unread, unnoticed. Plus I literally have to clean my house. Something is stinking-up the kitchen so fiercely that it makes me gag (just a little - a little gag) every time I go past it.
Yeah, yeah, yeah: "TMI."
"Whatev."
I know, I know, "TMI," but let me just say this about that: I am so over that phrase. "TMI" is so like 2000-2001. I am a very open, honest person - you really have to be as a writer and online journalist (blogger, whatever) - and I am not so certain there is such a thing as "TMI," but then I am an odd sort.
I have heard some people's deepest, darkest secrets - things that I guess end friendships for some - and they really do not phase me. I rarely tend to view the person differently because, with me, it's largely in one ear, out the other. It isn't that I don't care, it's just that I don't want to remember things about people that could potentially embarrass or harm them, and I have a tendency to babble when I get nervous and spill everyone's secrets - including my own. But then, my life is largely an open book - whether I want it to be or not - for whatever reason (I am still trying to figure it out), I am a great source of speculation for everyone. A genuinely popular topic of discussion.
I guess what I'm saying is that I am not the person to whom you should confess your sins. Or anything, really. I used to be - I really did - in fact, I am so open and non-judgmental that I was exactly the person to whom everyone wanted to spill their deepest, darkest secrets!
That was before they started reading my work.
Truly non-judgmental to a fault - not so much so anymore. One too many strippers, two too many crackheads - by 30 years of age, you learn that being judgmental is more than just a part of life, it's vitally essential to your continued survival and the maintaining of your private possessions!
At any rate, I have the shits because a neighbor brought me some awful chicken and dressing last night and it was just horrible. I don't know what was in it or what was wrong with it, but it was truly bad. Of course, I couldn't say that to them and I was so tired of eating white beans that I went on and ate every last bite, but I honestly had to hold my breath for most of it. I know that's what has me ill today - that and my muscle relaxers. And my legal woes. And my financial woes. And my vehicular woes...
I have been blogging all morning, but I think I am going to take the rest of the day off and read. I still haven't gotten into the comics I received for like the past two months and I got the latest issue of WD yesterday, too. I haven't read an entire copy of WD or Smithsonian in months; they're just stacking-up, unread, unnoticed. Plus I literally have to clean my house. Something is stinking-up the kitchen so fiercely that it makes me gag (just a little - a little gag) every time I go past it.
Yeah, yeah, yeah: "TMI."
"Whatev."
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