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282 pages, Paperback
First published October 5, 2021
I remember one blind date where I was forced to go hiking in the Santa Monica hills [...] I was a regular smoker back then and lived the life of a vampire, rarely venturing out into the oppressively optimistic California sun. But I did it. And I hated it. I hated that dude and I hated myself even more. But I was willing to do just about anything to have a shot at being loved.
When I got married and had children I thought I was done searching for happiness. I had it all right here, right in front of me. I thought it would be a permanent state of being. I thought I was done feeling unsettled.
Statements like 'to have and to hold' somehow came to encompass emotional support, financial support, spiritual support, laundry support, management of the household to a degree I had not fully appreciated, including regular selection and upgrading of linens, the selection and purchasing of all gifts for every occasion for every human being you have had any sort of meaningful contact with since we met, social calendar management, meal preparation management, pet management, vacation management, medical and dental appointment management, retirement funds management, and automobile management.
He continued to make most of the meals, a shift in labor that happened after I tearfully exploded for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to explain that the person who had the palate of a five-year-old, hated cooking, and would never learn how because there were other things I wanted to do with my life, was not the person who should be cooking for our children. Especially given he was an excellent cook.