Today is one of those days where I am in public sans bra and contacts and deodorant and clean hair and maybe I look a little bit like a hobo, but maybe it is okay. Life feels quieter and calmer than maybe it ought to at this moment, and it’s probably better not to think about it. My right foot (sometimes the left, too) is always tapping because of nerves or maybe too much coffee, and if you ask me to stop it, I’ll try, but I can’t. My fingers are in my mouth and it’s an awful habit, I know. But I’ll never be polished and neat and polite like you are, and I’m only a little bit sorry.