I poured myself a generous glass of a red blend that I sipped with my meal, and another that I toted into the living room for a long night of bingeing The Great British Bake Off. I lit a massive vanilla-scented candle, dropped onto my sectional, and let myself sink into the cushions. After a couple of episodes, a fuzzy feeling of contentment washed over me. If I were a cat, I would have been purring.
