Let's talk about TOO MUCH INFORMATION for a bit.
I saw a lady at work who has been sick and I made the monumental mistake of asking her how she was doing.
Let me tell ya, she took that question to heart and told me so much more than I needed to know, it was downright awkward. She took "How's your bronchitis?" and totally ran with it. She segued her way across many topics which included the following: every detail of her illness, the fact that her husband left her when their son was 3 months old because he couldn't accept the responsibility of being a father, her son's entire relationship with his father's side of the family, (not good at all) the fact that she has not dated or remarried or had a fling or anything whatsoever in the past 19 years except for one ill fated blind date, which she described in agonizing detail. The fact that this is not pitiful at all because she doesn't miss having a man and doesn't care if she ever finds someone. Then she told me about a big screaming "meeting" that happened after hours at the psych facility we own which ended up with the angry resignations of 3 key players over there.
When she was telling me about her parent's deaths and funerals (I'm not making this shit up) I felt quite awkward and wondered if it was showing on my face. I have trouble hiding any kind of feeling that is normally hidden. I didn't know what to do with my hands. I was fidgeting. And yawning a lot, which I think is some kind of freaky subconscious escape attempt. My brain just tries to go to sleep and shut out the incoming uncomfortableness.
I'm a weird bird.
Anyways... she just loaded me down with way too much information. She apparently needed to talk. On my way to the hotel I started thinking about that and I wonder if this was some kind of universal lesson for me. Yesterday, I wrote about feeling alone and today I heard about someone being voluntarily alone for 20 years!! I think she just doesn't have any confidence. Her ex husband was a jerk too. She must not have had any self esteem back then to have chosen someone as awful as that and to be willing to stay with him.
I should compliment her tomorrow. But then she might tell me 14 horror stories and describe some more funerals.
In Other News:
My hotel room was not left open for the world to rummage through for a change. Yay maids. I knew they could do it. I left a note reminding them to latch the door. I'll bet it would not have been locked if I hadn't left the note.
I'm going to order room service.
And now for an abrupt entry ending.