Purple Oven

 Purple Oven.

That's my new goal. Not the brownie brand, although they do make one of my favorite brownies. A real, live, purple oven. A purple gas oven I can bake and cook with to my heart's content.

Why don't I buy it now? I can certainly handle the monthly installment. My card balance can cover the amount. 

But I don't just want an oven. I want what it comes with - a house I own outright, where I could bake and experiment on whatever I feel like doing. 

It wouldn't be too much to wish for my purple oven, is it? 

I'm not asking for kids, a yard and a house (with a decent retirement plan). 

Just a house and a purple oven. 

Mindshift

 I was filling out forms at the office when I caught myself about to check the "single" on the civil status section. And my only thought was, "Oh, yeah. I can't change my status yet," like an 'Oops!' 

The past me would've been teary-eyed and wistful. Today's me is angry and silently calling the H a coward for not having the guts to face his demons and find a solution. Guess he thought his highly-capable W could cope just fine. Damn right she can. She's surrounded by idiots of the opposite sex - if she wants something to happen, she needs to do it herself.

So that's it. Twenty-five years defined by a single "meh" reaction. Or maybe it's just a cycle. I still want to throw dishes at his direction.