Please... ssshhhhh

It doesn't take much for my Stimulometer, the -ometer that measures stimuli, to start red-lining. I'm either hyperobservant, a snob, oversensitive, hungover, or all of the above. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes I really want to wear earplugs throughout my day. I hear a lot of insipid blather, and not the fun kind that makes you think "ooh, a conversation about, like, Mark's party. Exactly what I need right now and later."

My brain runs almost all the time. And lately I'm trying to communicate more openly. Not just in being forthcoming and non-judgmental and calm, but also honest about my emotions in the event that the emotions can make a difference one way or the other if they're brought up. Turns out...

they always can. Al. Ways.

So sometimes, when I want the world to shut up, I have to do so, first.
But the world here owes me nothing. I owe the planet quite a few things.

First off, I accidentally kicked a dude's chair last night while crossing my legs at the 9:10 of "KUNG FU PANDA," and I should have apologized for it. I didn't. I owe him one.

There's more, but for now... I just want quiet. I want peace. And quiet. In a bubble around me. I want no more questions about anything. I want to do what I have to go do, and not be asked what I'm doing, about to do, or just did. I need it. My brain needs to not be bothered by a question whose answer is not vital to the continued life of the asker. No, I don't need cracked pepper. Yes, I was next. No, that's not enough ice. Yes, really... I'd like the dressing ON THE SIDE.

I'm going now to drill a Valerian, go through old clothes until I get "Courtney Love in court" woozy, then climb into bed and put in my earplugs.

Hey World, seriously... help me out a little. Find out what "fiduciary" means elsewhere, I'm not your Wiki.

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