The Scribbler does not want…

I don’t want the puppy biting me overly hard because she doesn’t understand the already strength of her own jaws. I just want to bury my face in her wiry fur and cuddle her.

I don’t want to have to keep separating the pup and the basset because they’re irritating each other to potentially dangerous proportions. I just want them to be sweet to each other.

I don’t want to try and find yet another creative way to make finances co-operate to meet basic needs. I just want to win the lottery or be the flibbertigibbet socialite daughter of a billionaire.

I don’t want to be understanding of my spouse’s ridiculous work schedule right now and then remember to be grateful that he even has a job to begin with when so many don’t. I just want my husband’s attention for a bit and to be allowed to miss not having it.

I don’t want to approach my birthday with a sense of despondency. I just want to be able to look forward to it and then enjoy it on the day.

I don’t want to care that someone else might be hurting or in more need of TLC than I see myself to be. I just want to be selfish and be the one being pampered and put first for a bit.

I don’t want the friend with the superiority complex masquerading as self confidence to try and bend me to her views or tell me how/where I’m wrong and need to change. I just want her to acknowledge that she too has faults and be a friend accepting me for who I am, flaws and all.

I don’t want to sit and listen for the umpteenth time as a friend pours out the self-same relationship woes every time she comes over. I just want her to listen and be there for me for a change.

I don’t want to be this cynical and always on the alert for the conniving ways of others. I just want to be able to take things at face value and trust in humanity again.

But above all else…I don’t want to be this whiny-self pitying-shadow of the happy-go-lucky, optimistic person that I used to be.


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