I feel older than 39 today. I think I’ve reached that place where you realize that this is what your life is. Your house isn’t going to get any nicer, you’re never going to have good furniture. Your children are as smart as they’re ever going to be, and you worry that it’s not smart enough and hope to God at least one of them finds a good man to take care of her. Your husband is as complacent with you as you are with him. I’d held out hope on that last one, not that it did much good. You fall down on the mattress together after your bi-monthly romp, panting, and say something like, “We need to do that more often” and get a response akin to “Then I’d be spoiling you.”
So this is it. This is why women of a certain age look so… haggard. Their house is a wreck, their kids are idiots, and their husbands aren’t so much partners in life as they are roomies who fall asleep at 9 p.m. without helping put the idiot kids to bed.