Oh, Good. More Snot.

My daughter turned 11 months old two days ago.  She's getting increasingly mobile, right as I'm FINALLY getting ready to move into our new house.  (Pack/load is Monday.)

I love my daughter.  I do.

But I hate being a parent.  I resent the ending of my life in Chicago.  There is nothing satisfying or enjoyable about 90% of this.  Why the fuck does anyone do this voluntarily?  Turns out?  Those 30 years I spend not wanting children, not even a little bit?  I knew what I was talking about.

How am I going to keep doing this?  When I don't like my job, and I can't fix it, and it's not going to get better, I leave.  And now I'm trapped in this godforsaken backwater with this time-sucking little beast.  And it is not going to get better.