It’s hard to be polite when the eager yet obviously stoned guy rings your doorbell to interest you in his services of painting your address on the curb.
During nap.
Waking up the baby.
Not taking “no, thanks,” for an answer.
I don’t know how to not be nice to these people, but sitting here exhausted, having just put Boo down for the second time, having slept maybe four hours last night, having not processed the coffee into my bloodstream yet…
I would like to explode now.
