(There are exceptions to everything).
It starts with a bang...well, for dad at least. Who knows how it is for the mom. She usually doesn't even know it's happened till she starts vomiting! What a joyous and pleasant way of announcing the creation of a new life!
So then follows nine months of nausea, vomiting, constipation, crunched-up guts, back-aches, leg pains, and all the other assorted joys that are pregnancy. And pops- enjoy many months of Rosy Palm and her 5 sisters!
And along comes the day of deliverance- pain, discomfort, embarrassment, screams, tears, cursing, blood, poop. Welcome in that new life with screaming and cursing!
Once it has arrived, then come the years of bad sleep- first, baby wakes up every few hours wanting to gnaw your sore nipples some more. And then spit up. And poop. And cry. Lather, rinse repeat. And then all the years of you sleeping roughly because you are worrying about your family. Their health. Their upbringing. Your job. Your income. Now that you have "responsibility". Joy!
Life as a kid- all joy and fun and games right? Poop filled diapers. Runny noses. Barfing. Disgusting food being forced on them ("You'll eat that broccoli- it's good for you!"). Bed time forced on them ("But Ma, my favorite show is on!"). School and all the joyous times it brings- like waking up early. Homework. Bullies. Taunting, teasing, and officially sanctioned sadism called dodge ball. Dumb-ass psycho teachers who insist that 2+2=5 because that's what is printed in the "Teacher's Edition".
Tween years- ("No you can't do that- you're not old enough!"). Oh, then we get to move on to the pinnacle of joyous youth years- the teen years. Hormones. Acne. Gangly. Spasdic. 24/7 horny...("None for you, fat/geek/dork boy!"). More teasing and taunting,
getting swirlied, and jumped by the "cool" guys.
Now what? College, or some sort of job? More joy. Either way, work. Several more years of "school"? With Professors who swagger into the classroom the first day to brag about how they are "Seen-Yor Pro-Fess-Ors" who cannot be fired. You know that class is going to be several months of joyous bliss.
If you've gone the college route, you graduate, most likely with thousands of dollars in DEBT. And the first job you're finally offered will pay the joyous sum of $18K/year! Of course you made more than that as assistant manager at Micky Dees. While still in high school. Maybe you should have stayed there to become a full manager...
So now that you've gotten a job (or maybe not- maybe you're now living back home with the folks cause you're broke, jobless, and in debt. What joy that is!)- get your ass out of bed at 4:45 AM, begin the 1.5 hour commute with other joy filled happy souls, who may drop banana peels in your path while you are doing the half-conscious zombie shuffle off the train. Get to the office, fulfill your joy filled day with your joy filled boss (most likely, somewhere up the line bossman is a millionaire whose boring pointless no-hobby-other-than-golf-with-other-boring-dumbos life leads him to still get up at 4:45AM to commute to work every day too. What an idjit. Of course you can think of a thousand things you'd be doing other than work if you were a millionaire).
What's next? Oh yeah- you do the "right" thing. You get married to that neato person you've been dating, although s/he has some little quirks that irk you. Oh well you think- once we're married they'll be no big deal! I'll get him/her to change! AH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH...oh, sorry, I digress. Get used to piss on the seat. Get used to used tampons/napkins in the bathroom garbage can. Get used to slimy hair clogging the shower drain, that you have to dig out with your fingers. Get used to little/no enjoyable sex. You're both either too tired, or he's a selfish asshole who grunts, rolls over, farts, and falls asleep, or she's one of those mean bitches that just won't take 2 minutes out of her precious week to "help out" with your "needs" ("Oh I don't do that! It's gross!").
Which of course leads to... the beginning of this article. The cycle starts over. And what becomes of you? You get old. You get decrepit. All those fun things you planned on doing when you were young and couldn't do because you had neither time nor money? Well, you can't do most of them now, cause you're too old and decrepit. Maybe you have some money stashed up to do some things...most likely, not. So one day, you just drop dead. And you've accomplished up to this point? Absolutely nothing. Except perpetuating our pointless existence.
