@Snicks1 nothing exciting happened when I got home, lol.
Somewhere along the way, probably a year or two after my husband died I started looking at my house like it was my sanctuary. After work I used to used to pull into the attached garage, walk a few feet over to the mailbox and grab the mail muttering sanctuary, sanctuary. There's something about having doors that separate me from all of the crazy ******* that makes up the world that makes me feel safe.
There are times when you must speak, not because you are going to change the opposing side, but because if you do not speak, they have changed you.