While I'm sure that having children would warm the otherwise shriveled cockles of my heart, I don't think I can wrap my head around that kind of life shift. The ability to sleep in as I please, drink myself into a happy tanking coma, and gorge myself with delicious food on a random patio somewhere will always take precedence. I may regret this decision when I'm 90 and drooling all over myself, but I can't imagine my imaginary daughter would appreciate me by that point.
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