Of the repetitive drone of my supposedly domesticated life.
Of how things are not always within my control.
Of crazy people who permanently seem more hormonally imbalanced than I am during pregnancy.
All of a sudden, I just feel that it would be so much easier to just make babies and chuck them to someone else to care for. You just come home from work, play with them, and then tomorrow they are someone else’s problem again.
Maybe that would explain the flourishing childcare centres and the booming domestic helper industry.
I am just counting down to my Batam getaway.