When I read this, I imagined myself in the Handmaid’s shoes. All of her freedoms had been stripped and she deeply craved any glimmer of normalcy. It made me think of some of the ridiculous arguments that I have with my husband. There are always crumbs scattered all over our kitchen counter after he makes one of his sandwiches and, no matter how many times I point it out, I still find sprinkles of coffee grains on the floor around the garbage can. I imagined how I would feel if he was removed from me and I was never able to nag him ever again. In the sentiment of LeAnn Rimes, I wouldn’t be able to breathe without him. I lived alone for a very, very long time, so although those little things about my husband might be annoying, it is also a huge privilege for me to find a mess that someone else made because it means that I’m no longer living this life on my own.