The author hopes to get on her robe chenille striped tigers from the back door of the bathroom and put it on over her jeans and flannel shirts. At another time the author read against the wall with her feet on the heat, and drifts in and of itself, not the blower to send it around the house. The author was depressed, aimless, and vacant: mother-to-machine, with a new baby, and Kelly, who will be five soon. Maybe the author did not stay ...