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.