I need rehabilitation. Like chocolate while you’re PMS-ing or a hot-leaving-you breathless kiss in the middle of the night, cheap books are terribly very hard to resist. I shouldn’t have walked with Kats to Robinson’s. This is her fault.


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To my future husband,

I have a confession to make: I don’t know if I am fit to be a good mother. Yesterday, I was made to babysit kids aged 5 and 7 and drat, it wasn’t easy. I had to endure one full hour of screaming, wailing, sweating children in a “kid repository” in MOA while making sure I captured every happy moment they’re having. My voice box ( Read more... )