"Well, this is like a curse skipping mercilessly from one generation to another. From my father's aunt to my father and finally to me. Now the thing is...." Finishing my second capuccino, I lit a cigarette, "... I will most probably get out of this and as long as I don't have kids, it'll be alright. If I do, poverty will hit back around 50, my lovely, mid-life-crisis-stricken husband will ditch me for a 20 something blonde, no pun intended, and my kids will have to drop their dreams to work their asses off for us to make ends meet."