Hear that? Me, neither!

Wednesday night, no one came over. Not a soul came a-rap-rap-rapping on my door. Thank God!

In the past five days I've had my across-the-hall neighbor come by to talk condo association doings and exchange phone numbers.* Then Plumbing Lady stuck a note on my door, saying that she expects me to tell her "the outcome of this situation," with "this situation" being her stopped-up sink. Then neighbor Brian came by twice, staying more than half an hour each time, to talk about condo association doings.

I've hated every moment of it.

I grew up watching The Dick Van Dyke Show, where Millie kept running over unannounced to visit Laura. Then there was The Mary Tyler Moore Show, where Rhoda would drop in unannounced to visit Mary. Mary had it better than Laura in that at least Rhoda knocked.

I am neither as friendly nor as gracious as Laura and Mary. Especially Mary. Like me in my "clown car" office, she sat out in the open, fully exposed to her coworkers, all day every day. How did she do it? How did she put up with Ted and Murray all day and then go home to merciless exposure to Rhoda, Phyllis and Georgette, and yet still manage to turn the world on with her smile?

When I get home from work, I like to sit on my lumpy futon, big old fat cat Joey at my side, and watch TV in my pajamas. Even if it's only 7:30. I don't want to hear about your stopped up sink (and I certainly don't want to pay for removing the clog) and I don't care what you think of Ken the Handyman or Al the Building Manager. It exhausts me pretending that I do care, it exhausts me pretending to be nice.

This Gal needs alone time to recharge. Without it, I get depressed and squirrely.

*Yeah, by all means, let's call each other every night, too. Oy!