And by that I mean the fellow who rents the apartment above us and not, so much, God.
Although, with the state the world's been in since the beginning of time, I'd be surprised if He's getting His full eight hours a night.
My neighbour definitely isn't. I know this because I hear him. And when he isn't awake in the wee hours of the morning, pacing the floor, bumping into the furniture and DROPPING THINGS, he's asleep and snoring. Really. Loudly. And far too quickly. This worries me.
I know this about him. And I know that he keeps his TV on all night.
And once, when I was washing off the cares of the day in my shower, he was washing off the cares of the day in his shower. And we fought over the hot water.
We've shared these moments. Strangely intimate moments. And I know all sorts of things about him.
But, unless he's standing on his own front porch, I wouldn't recognize him face to face.
And that seems strange to me.
Call me an old-fashioned girl, but I think you should be able to recognize the man you've been showering with.