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Falling asleep in absolute silence in a federal government–owned building in my pajamas was harder than I expected. All I could do was lie still and wonder how my life brought me to this windowless office in Washington, D.C. Or worry that a stranger was going through my drawers at home and violating the new bathrobe my mother had gotten me for my thirtieth birthday.

Read the rest of “The Secret Life of an Obsessive AirBNB Host” on Narratively.