All I ask

is to have doors that work as they are supposed to at all times;

a house that is my own, secure, warm and cozy domain;

a job where I can just go in every day, put my head down, and help my clients without dealing with drama and bureaucratic crap;

and someone to come home to would be pretty nice, too.

But apparently I ask too much. Way too much. It's a good thing sitting on your couch alone while crying and drinking too much wine is classy. So at least I have that. And the world's sweetest dog. I have that, too.