Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be.  What a load of shite.

Once again I have become a victim of internet dating.  This time I can take some comfort in the fact that it’s not me, it’s him, or so I’m told.  We are victims of circumstance and busy lives, uncertain futures and student poverty.

As women we are told we can have it all – career, family, love.  Maybe that is why I feel such despair at having none of the above.  I know I’m on the way to finding those things, but I truly wonder if it will be possible to have it all since it seems so impossible to even have one.

As I struggle to write my dissertation on the confinement of women and the effect on creativity and self, I know in my soul that my choice of topic is the correct one.  I just wonder if there is any contentment for me, or if that is just reserved for the women of fiction?


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