System overload.  

All I can say is this is the reason as I grow older, I no longer have a need for superfluous information and details. 

It’s very callous to say “I don’t care,” but there are some things I just don’t care about. I’m not informed on many topics because I choose not to pay attention to them.  

I used to think this was me being selfish, and perhaps part of it is.  But really, I think of all of the things that are important; you know, the things I really need to know about.  

There are plenty of things I have to keep track of. There are plenty of people I’m forced to watch over and know about.  There are plenty of things I have to know about my job, my family and a few other areas of life.  

Other things are weighed in my head for a bit, and if it isn’t something I need or want to store up there, I shoot it out of there. The older I get, the easier it is to do. The easier it is not to fret about the piddly.

I used to work with a couple of people who were absolute storehouses of information. These were the people who knew everyone’s history. They met on a regular basis in the company break room to compare notes, which they were open about and even bragged about a little.  

Most everyone who knew them knew they prided themselves on knowing the scoop.  These were the people who knew updated information on most people.  Now, they weren’t necessarily gossipy or the type of people who were back stabbers; they just knew everyone’s business.  

I am somewhat in awe of people who can keep track of other people so well. Their learning styles fascinate me, and I can’t help but wonder what kind of  student they were when in school. 

Anyone who can keep track of the details of the lives of numerous people must be a genius of sorts.  In fact, I am wondering if someone like this could somehow get this skill on a resume. I mean heck, watching some of these folks over the years has convinced me they could all run successful companies.  

When I’ve had conversations with some of these people, they almost become annoyed with you if you don’t know information.  When inquiries are made, I usually say “I’m not sure I know.” I don’t know if the person thinks I’m withholding information or simply being dense. In any case, I am usually a disappointment when it comes to information gathering.

However, being the prankster I am, I also like to mess around with these folks a bit.  When I find out someone is that nosy, I love to pretend I am in the know about something, just to see them squirm a little.  

Shame on me.  

One particular person was always the first person to know of a pregnancy, a birth and/or all of the aspects of the delivery.  Shoot, I’ll bet you could have quizzed this person on the actual conception and they would have been able to provide a few of those details, too.  

Apparently, this person even found out the sex of the child and the names of some, both things that were in some cases kept secret to mere mortals.

When technology and Facebook came along, it became a sport for this person to post details as soon as possible. People would laugh about it. To be able to post the info seemed to be something of great importance and a personal triumph.  I mean, I’m not sure the actual grandparents or other family members often knew before this person announced it on Facebook.

When I was once privy to the birth of a mutual friend’s child, I was pretty certain I was the first to know. It just seemed, by a fluke, I was in the right place at the right time.

So, being the mature person I am, I raced to my computer and penned a congratulatory post on Facebook, hurriedly posting it. Hot off the presses!

I shouldn’t have been so happy about beating this person to the punch. Really, I should have been ashamed of my behavior.  

After all, wasn’t I contradicting myself and doing the very thing I turned up my nose to?

Oh well. It felt good anyway.