Dreary, meaningless toil and subservience forces the mind to seek escape and comfort. Others without the natural gift of imagination seek out the bottle or the gypsy smoke, but I take pride in my inventiveness. I turn instead to novel outlets like ketchup packet hoarding and burning pictures of horses. When the rotten stress of screaming infants becomes too much, I find solace in repeatedly subscribing and unsubscribing to expensive foreign policy magazines.

Under extreme duress, I have been known to busy myself by renaming all of my furniture.

Even in denial one finds opportunity for expression and individuality.

Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

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