I’m knackered. I feel like I work my guts out to make my wife’s life as nice as possible, and I feel it’s not seen, barely acknowledged, and totally taken for granted. I’ve just about lost all ability to plan my own future, instead I’m jamming my own wants in around everybody elses, and they aren’t getting done. And yet still I get the complaints about her own lack of personal time. I’m getting to the point where I can’t see a happy end to my hard slog, and about the only pleasure I get is from beer. I can spend all my money on stuff for her lifestyle, and yet my wants are analysed and shot down for the time they take away from the family. I used to be a man, now I’m a puppet slave who’s supposed to be satisfied with all this crap. Suddenly, I understand exactly what a mid-life crisis is all about, and quite simply, it’s having enough of all this s***.