I have a wish list. It's simple really, but it's time to put it out in writing. I have this sudden desire as I arrived home tonight to discover one of my favourite (second fav, to be exact) mugs shattered on my bedroom floor. Thank you, Willi, you Mother of all Destruction, you.

01. New drinking glasses. Between boys and visiting godchild, my number has been somewhat depleted.
02. A new mug that can be my second favourite.
03. New, eight inch, double size futon for my couch.
04. Enough money to finally get all my film developed.
05. Air-conditioning in Scarlette that works.
06. A massive reduction, on the level of the heinous 27% increase, to my auto insurance.
07. More freelance contracts - yes, I know, what I really mean is for some of my networking to pay off...
08. A haircut.
09. Dave Gahan's new album, preferably before I actually see him in concert.
10. People to buy stuff from my store before Cafeshops absorbs what meagre profit I've made.
11. New stockings.
12. A Swiffer Wetjet. Oh baby, I hate mopping this floor.

That's what I can think of off the top of my head. Some of it is so tiny you might wonder why I have to put it on my wish list. Well, until I am more financially stable, I can't afford to replace things that I can still get some use out of, even though they're fraying around the corners, so to speak. How do poor people do it?