Staying in an Airbnb Triggers Me as an Introvert

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I’m not sure if you know this about me, but I don’t like people. I don’t like small talk. And I especially don’t like people who like to engage in small talk. The latter most often occurs with Airbnb hosts.

The boy is the social butterfly of the family and forces me to talk to people when I would rather sit around 10 other people with my headphones on and not discuss the current political climate in our respective countries.

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The Terrible Twos Are a LIE!

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I love my child. He is literally my favorite person on this planet. But when he is sleepy or hungry or hasn’t pooped in a couple of days he is not someone I want to share space with. I love him, but nah.

We were in Egypt recently and a few days into our trip, we were exploring the Sahara desert on ATVs. It was the most fun we’ve had in a while. He rode on the back and screamed with glee while I embraced my inner Ryde or Die Chick. We saw a Bedouin village and watched the millions of stars as we ate BBQ and other traditional foods.

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