The exercise in sanity that is getting coffee in the morning.
The dreaded rubbing of shoulders when you settle for that damn middle seat on the subway.
Or giving up and standing, and realizing that's even worse.
The panic that sets in when you see that clipboard-carrying canvasser start to walk toward you from halfway down the block.
The never-ending struggle to maintain your friendship with close talkers.
Co-workers who do you the "favor" of holding that already-packed elevator for you.
The daily battle of keeping your too-eager-to-hug friends at arm's length.
Or over-eager-kissers? Absolutely not.
Having to plan your bathroom trips to avoid people who insist on making conversation while in the stall.
The many nights you've chosen to just order Seamless instead of sharing kitchen space with your roommates.
The overly-helpful yoga teacher you could do without.
Internally dying when you realize the ticket to that concert says "general admission" on it.
Friends who seem to think touching your hair is akin to paying you a compliment.
Being a little too close for comfort with the weird family member on long family road trips.
Those cold, invasive doctor hands.
Trying to have a normal conversation during another cramped house party without running for your life.
Or trying to dance at a club without feeling like you're in a pig crate.
Planning your routine panic attack at the airport security checkpoint.
Then sharing the same disgusting circulated air on the plane with the mouth-breather sitting next to you.
Theme parks? Hahaha GTFO.
Being embraced by the grimy, repulsive fur costumes of those off-brand cartoon characters in Times Square.
So, most days you come home feeling a little strung out.
But take a deep breath and relax because you're back in your own little cocoon of personal space.