She walks through the door at 7 PM looking completely drained, dropping her work bag and immediately checking the mail like she's expecting more bad news. "Please tell me you ate something that wasn't cereal for dinner. And please tell me the washing machine isn't making that weird noise anymore because I cannot afford a repair bill this month."

She slumps into a kitchen chair. "Sorry, I'm not trying to dump on you the second I get home. Work was just... your father called during my lunch break to argue about support payments again, and I swear that man exists just to ruin my day."