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If I’d been single, I probably wouldn’t have been writing this. It’s virtually a law that you must include a passionate love of travelling in your online dating profiles. You must match passports where you once matched horoscopes. It’s no longer enough to say you enjoy sunsets or walks on the beach or a cup of good coffee. It has to be sunsets at the Serengeti, strolls along Kroh Kradan, coffee brewed from beans freshly defecated by Asian palm civets. Then, you might get laid on the first date.
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My child is turning into a believer, and more shamefully, I'm feeding her some completely fantastical formulations myself just because it's so damn convenient. My own conduct pretty much proves, in fact, that religion is a great fallback for the intellectually lazy and emotionally faint of heart. As the struggling parent of a toddler, religious constructs are right up there with <em>Doraemon</em> and <em>Peppa Pig</em> in my I'm-giving-up-for-today toolkit.
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"She is going to hate you, you know. All her friends will have piercings and nice earrings and she'll be the only one who won't. She will resent you." I took stock of the situation. Should I tell this woman the real reason? Would she take it as an affront?
It's been more than a year since I sat at an office desk. Oh the pay check, the plotting, the cursing, the gossiping, the work too whenever I got time for it. The last 12 months have been a whirl of intense diaper examinations, endless nursing, laundry and YouTube crash courses in Incy Wincy Spider and Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes. Startlingly boring stuff, often. So, is the sacrifice of a job and social life worth it?