I feel like my life is one everlasting Oversharers Anonymous meeting. I mean, like, is it my face? It is pinchable. Is it the curly hair? It’s certainly not my welcoming demeanor because I have RBF (resting b* face) to the max.
But, f***, people are so damn narcissistic these days, they feel the need to tell me every last detail of their lives.
While these next few examples may sound exaggerated, I can’t make this stuff up.
I’m sitting in the doctor’s office, waiting on a friend, when a man about 40 asks me what I’m doing. “I’m crocheting,” I said. Which, by the f***ing way, if I’m crocheting, knitting, reading, or participating in any other non-contact sports, I’m not “doing nothing.” I can’t just stop in the middle of a row to entertain you. This is serious business, and I need you to wait your f***ing turn.
Anyway, he proceeds to tell me he’s waiting on his diabetes checkup. The conversation could have ended there and I would’ve been fine. But, no. Mr. Diabetus has to go on to tell me about his 15 near death experiences with low insulin and how a cat finally saved his life. Sprinkles can sense his insulin levels and has a particular purr to notify his owner when it’s at a dangerous level. I don’t even know if that’s scientifically a thing but even so, how am I supposed to respond? “Cool. I hate cats.”
Then, there are the people who hint at things.
I’m not stupid. I know deep down that you REALLY want to tell me something but you’re totally in denial that you’re an oversharer. But, if I specifically ask about the thing you’re hinting toward, then you’re just answering a question. I mean, it’d be rude not to answer.
“This orange really reminds me of Billy. But you know, whatever. Pshh. Enough about him.”
You’re right; that is enough about him, especially since I don’t give a flying f*** about how he compares to an orange. But, it’s my duty as a decent human being to say, “Oh yeah, how so?”
“Well, Billy and I broke things off. Actually, I totally dumped him. He was just like so controlling but kind of in a good way. I’m fine though. My life is on the right track and I’m being the best me ever.”
“Yeah, I feel like that orange is super controlling, too.”
People, can we stop?
I know talking about your problems is the cliche thing to do but sh*t, call your mom or something. Unless you’re my best friend or my family, I couldn’t possibly care less. And, I promise you, the next time a stranger tells me about their absolutely horrifying ordeal with vaginal birth after c-section, I’m going to give you every detail about how I can finally sneeze again since I got my asshole sewed up.
#proctocolectomy #crohnssucks #thankyoudoctorolson