I'm not insane, I am not insane!

It is almost always nice to realize that one is not imagining things and thus on ones way to going insane. And that's what I realized today. Every time I've met the drunkard who lives across the street I've been hung over with the natural effect of being really paranoid. And every time he's seemed to be staring intently at me in a sort of freaky, unkind way, thus fueling my before-mentioned paranoia. But today I am completely, one hundred percent sober and he still stared. Openly and freakishly at me, turning his head as I walked by him and keeping his eye on me until I was inside my apartment building. Now, on the one hand, I'm glad I'm not imagining things and thus slightly insane. On the other hand, I wish the old, overweight, scary, long haired drunk guy who lives across the street would stop staring at me. It freaks me out.