Sharing is caring/creepy…

Soooo let me tell you everything.

And by everything I mean everything.
The less I know you the more I will tell you.

Over sharing is my defense mechanism when it comes to meeting new people and I’m inexplicably drawn to people who do the same.

Yesterday at work one of the grandmas made a point of telling me that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She also told me that she was still in her pajamas (at 1 in the afternoon).

I think that she told me to make me feel included. Either that or she thought it was that obvious that she should get in first and point it out before I started questioning her lack of support.

It was a tiny bit awkward. But all good things are.

I have a history and a reputation for over sharing. I think I’m getting better. Or maybe I’m just not getting out as much as I used to.

The number of people who know about my lucky undies that I wear when my football team is playing is a classic example. That people text me on game day to make sure that I’m wearing them is an example of the high regard in which they are held.

Unfortunately the lucky undies have resulted in the worst year in the history of my beloved football club.

They have brought all lucky undies everywhere into disrepute.

I wonder sometimes whether it’s too much or if it’s just what makes me who I am?

I question if people need to know everything about me. If they care? If they think I’m funny or strange?

But what I know is this… Leave me with an awkward silence and I will fill it with information that you will never unlearn.


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