In these intrusive times privacy is so important. One must create levels of exclusion in one's life. I have gone down my list of contacts and carefully delineated where their boundaries are with regard to my personal idiosyncrasies and especially my space.
Jan can check my hair and armpits for lice, but nowhere else. Danielle can inspect my entire body for anything abnormal. Steve has permission to read my poetry, but not my strange musings, which might put him over the edge. Mirella can look through my pajama drawer, but not my underwear, Candy can check out my shorts, but not my socks, Carl can explore my medicine cabinet, but not my diary.
Harriet has full access to my diary, but not my morning pages, Howard has my garage to check, but stay out of my storage space, Keith can get into that space, but not my fridge, Ed has access to my public blog, but not my private fantasies, which are locked in a safe only Nancy can open.
Mary can watch me brush my teeth, but not pee, Josie can watch me shave, but not pee, Margaret can watch me shave and pee because she is a doctor, Ulrike can tickle me, Arlene can clean out my ears and then blow in them.
Jackie can give me a massage only above the chest.
I have to end this because Candy is in my bedroom spending just a little too much time checking my shorts. There are limits to sharing.
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