It’s sort of like the lite version of cohabiting -- we get to play house, without the logistical tough stuff of actually doing so.
the style con
Guy sits next to you on the train, spreads his legs as far apart as you think could be humanly possible, and you’re suddenly squashed up against a glass panel or door with little room to breathe. And who said sorry? Probably you.
I used to worry that I'd be unwittingly ostracized from our little group because I didn't have or want children. Instead, our respect for each other has only strengthened.
One has to wonder if it’s possible to love inanimate objects too much.
These lazy weekend lie-ins will soon be a thing of the past, so enjoy them while you can.