Work Text:
In the locker room, she strips off her uniform and heavy shoes, pulling on jeans and stuffing her feet into sneakers.
Home means kissing her daughter on the forehead, watching DeeDee sleep until she can't stand up any longer, tossing the double-shift socks into the sink with Woolite and slipping into a pair of soft, cushioned slippers. She lifts a frosted glass from the freezer and fills it halfway with vodka.
After years of living with her control freak of a husband, you'd think she'd eschew all rituals, but when she's the one setting the parameters, they become small pleasures.