For me, I think the worst thing another person can say or even think about me is that I am boring. I, of course, believe I am endlessly fascinating--at least to me. I am certain, like most of us, that there are times I go on and on about something the person I am conversing with has no interest in whatsoever.
My dear late friend, Susannah Lippman, and I had a unique agreement. We gave each other permission to admit when the other was boring us. As a person not very interested in food, she sometimes even limited my expounding on my foodie experiences in various restaurants. "I am only going to listen to you talk about food for ten minutes, Jerry," she would say, shutting me off just as I was getting to the really delicious part. And I would do the same when she was spouting off about one of her enthusiasms that aroused less than passionate interest in me. "I love you dearly, Susannah, but if I hear one more word about UFOs or alien life forms among us, I will burst." As a result of this pact, we hardly ever found each other boring in forty years of friendship.
Perhaps the hardest thing in the world to tell another person is that they are boring you right now. I have told people they are stupid, annoying, deeply mired in poverty consciousness, politically misguided, and that I had no desire to date them--but I cannot recollect a time when I said to someone, "I have to go, you are boring me to death." Or, "Do you know you are boring as hell?"
Of course, this last doesn't really make any sense. I've always imagined that if there is such a place, heaven would be much more boring. All that harp music for a start. And, to be honest, most of the people I find most interesting, probably are hellhound.
Some great and innovative ideas about prosperity at my other blog: