I’d much rather stay in a hotel than sleep on someone’s spare couch or floor. Maybe I’m weird.
Actually, maybe I kinda suspect that I am weird, and that’s why I prefer the anonymity of a hotel over staying with people I know. One doesn’t like to discover, as a full grown adult, that their bathroom etiquette is not up to scratch.
Really, it’s mostly that I don’t like to impose on people, and if I do impose, I like the idea that I’ll live it down and put it behind me the instant I check out, as opposed to having a friend or relative bring it up at some random point in the future.
Note from Missy: If it’s weird, then call me a weirdo. I’ve stayed in people’s houses only a couple of times in my adult life, and it’s so anxiety-producing. That feeling that you need to be doing something or entertaining each other 24/7. I’d rather have a hotel room where I can just go and be away from people. (Though Scott would be there, but when you’ve been married for 20 years, you kind of don’t count as “people” anymore to each other, if you know what I mean.) I probably also feel like a weirdo on this point because we watch a lot of House Hunters, where everyone wants a spare room for out-of-town guests.
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