I dream of it all. The nice, cozy apartment, books overflowing on the shelves. A small corner with a nice chair I can read books or relax in. I dream of it like it’s my job. It helps me realize my goals and what I have to work for when I feel like I’m doing everything for no reason. I am doing it for a reason, though. I’m working hard to make that dream become a reality, and to sit down, with a steaming cup of sweet coffee, and be proud of how far I’ve come.