Birth

Today is more or less my birthday. It's the same calendar day, anyway.

So far, today has been pretty similar to my actual birth.

I woke up naked, not really remembering anything a whole lot before that point in time.
My eyes were kind of stuck together, and I was confused for a little bit.
I had a bit of a headache, and an acute sensitivity to light, which I'm pretty sure is how newborns would describe the initial symptoms associated with being alive. Fortunately, I wasn't covered in blood and/or effluvia.

I had to get out of bed, which was nice and warm, and the house was freezing.  I imagine this is also how newborns would describe, if they could, the process of being born. Although there was nobody there to spank me, I felt like I had abused myself enough-- no outside force was necessary.

I had a glass of milk and took a dump. So far, I'm batting 1000, and I don't even play baseball.

Then I warmed up, got some clothes on and felt better about being alive. Slightly.

Now I'm not sure about what to do.  I imagine that this is what's going on for newborns as well. They need to absorb information about the world around them.

I started reading the news, and I'm finding what's going on in the world to be distinctly un-awesome in nature.
I think that's pretty much what growing up is all about, though: it's the process of figuring out that reality often falls spectacularly short of the expectations we were lead to have for it. How we deal with that is how we mark maturity.  Often, I think, we find things that aren't worthwhile, and we learn how to deal with them. That is what we call experience.

Some things, though, are worthwhile. Love and companionship among them.  Story of my life.