Bits of Me are Falling Apart, by William Leith
A short, somewhat grim account of being a middle aged man and feeling that life has completely passed you by. I'm classifying it as non-fiction because it's presented as a memoir. Some of the observations were uncomfortably close to home, but in general I felt I'd had a better life than the writer and wasn't learning much from this. It's well written, though, the account of the circumstances around his son's conception being especially gripping.