“Self-care” can become its own burden – particularly as the dopamine returns diminish and there is still no one else offering an alternative source
You know – one of those places mostly populated by cool corporate types, hot desking and holding meetings and typing furiously on high-end laptops, with a fewlike me scattered around, looking at them in awe and wondering what it is like to have to iron a shirt to wear or have a shower every day, or to cope with donning tights or a tie on the regular.
I have never had a wife. This, I know now, is a terrible oversight.
But where does the remainder of the graft still, by and large, land? Why do I skip happily to an office complex every morning and feel like a load has been lifted from my shoulders for the day? Why is it impossible to imagine a Brady Syfers-esque litany of reasons entitled “Why I Want a Husband”?