Watch my mom rage on me in the comments section

I remember once in high school hearing a story about a woman in New York - a friend of a friend of the woman who wrote Gogglebox or something - who found an intruder in her place and just yelled incredulously at him: "Get the fuck outta my house!" And he did. I fully believed it at the time, and now I understand why. I am a coward, including being afraid of the dark and, I don't know, there being a face in the window IF I LOOK AT IT or someone breaking in or that spider crawling on me as soon as I fall asleep or whatever else I could come up with. But not so much anymore. I am so comfortable in, and territorial about this ridonculously cute $5/sq ft studio that I work so hard to pay for, that when a coat slides off a chair on the other side of the room, or some random buzzes my apartment trying to get into the building, or I hear fighting outside my window, my immediate reaction is just: "THA FUCK?"

Yesterday, by some miracle I was at home all day. And when someone knocked on my door at noon, my only thought was "You have to show up when I'm wearing a housecoat and a towel turban?" I open the door, there's some 6'2" mid-50s guy standing there with a clipboard and he says,
"I'm from buildings. You got heat and hot water?"
"Yes.. Are you from the landlord or the city?"
"The city, ma'am."
He gets out his ID to show me, and for the first time it occurs to me maybe I am not supposed to open the door to strange men.