This just isn't our universe.
Relax, puny biped. Have a carrot.
[Copyright: Marc Johns.]
It appears that my apartment mate is obsessed with narrative minutiae. Why am I listening to a long and complex tale about her sick hours as noted in her file at work, including administrative details and time sheet notations, signatures, e-mail confirmation, hierarchy?
And to what point?
COLLEAGUE-SPAWN
It has something to do with facemasks, and the fact that one of her colleagues has a child. Probably several of them do, including some of the various people she mentioned in great depth and a neutral perspective sofar, but one was specifically mentioned as offspring-having.
Co-workers, like many creatures, sometimes breed.
At least two of mine also have children.
But I have never told her so.
A minor detail.
People with Asperger syndrome often overload their discussions with data, much of which is less than important. It is not necessary for the purposes of this conversation that the precise height of her supervisor is mentioned, nor that one person has an offspring, age and gender not specified.
Honestly, it does not add value.
Unless they are on my property, children are always a minor detail.
Do not trample my grass, and kindly get out of my backyard.
Do not worry, female earth human, all will be well.
A pipe smoking bunny rabbit is in charge.
Please have a carrot.
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