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.