I tended to place my wife under a pedestal.
Life is divided into the horrible and the miserable.
Umlaut snaps around and we cut to a blond apparition in her early twenties, clearly descended from Olympus by way of Hugh Hefner's mansion.
I got a divorce because my ex-wife left me for another woman.
My grammy never gave gifts, you know. She was too busy getting raped by Cossacks.
I think there is too much wrong with the world to ever get too relaxed and happy. The more natural state, and the better one, I think, is one of some anxiety and tension over man's plight in this mysterious universe.