View attachment 28883 I dread leaving my apartment. I live in a third floor walk up. Once a day I have to go and collect my mail which is in the hall way on the ground floor. There is this old man who lives in the flat next to the mail boxes. Sometimes he waits out there for people to get their mail so he can talk to them. I find this really annoying, I know he is just a harmless, lonely old man, but listening to his pointless, rambling stories is painful to me. When ever he talks at me I find myself slipping away into my mind, daydreaming of a better place. I sometimes feel guilty for not having more compassion for this pest, but when he talks I feel like I am being hit in the head with a bag of oranges.