Feeling a bit stressed today, possibly irritated or even frustrated ... then it may be down to the pressures of modern life.
What is it about everyday existence that gets us so annoyed that by the end of the day you’ll think you’ve really earned those glasses of wine or a couple of beers?
It may start in the bathroom when you find there’s no toilet roll left.
The kids have used the last one and not bothered to get any more out. You check the downstairs loo for some rolls but they’ve been in there too and there’s just one piece perched on top of the cardboard roll so they can say they‘ve not used the last sheet.
You set off to work and immediately hit heavy traffic caused by yet another set of roadworks that have sprung up from nowhere and have no-one working on them.
On the radio the traffic reporter goes on and on about ‘the rush hour’. Why do they say that? No-one’s rushing anywhere and the morning and evening commute drags on for well over an hour – especially on a Friday afternoon when it seems to start at 3pm and ends around 7pm.
You pop into the supermarket to get the essentials – milk and a bottle of wine – and end up channelled into the self service tills.
You even have to queue to use them now as the traditional ones are being cut back. We went into a one in Wales recently where it was all serve service. No way? Yes way.
So you start your shopping, scan it, pop it where the bags should be but then get the message ‘unexpected item in bagging area.’
You’ve forgotten to say you’re not using any bags.
Oh, and the loitering assistant needs to check you’re old enough to buy the bottle of plonk.
What could be more expected at a supermarket till than a four-pinter of milk?
And then the machine really starts to taunt you increasingly tormented mind.
“Have you remembered to swipe your Nectar card?”
No, because it’s still on the kitchen table. Now if I’d brought the table with me I’d have had both the card and an unexpected item for the bagging area.
Then you carry on to work and the hassles that will inevitably bring whatever job you do.
To escape from that for a few minutes you check the news on your phone.
Would you believe it, North Korea has fired a ballistic missile over Japan ... again.
Cue more pictures of Kim Jong-un complete with his ‘criminal’ haircut and ridiculous grin celebrating what’s happened and the fact he has nothing better to do with his time.
But then it gets you thinking about the ‘battle of the haircuts’ – Donald Trump and his likely response. What’s he going to do next? Has he anyone left on his staff to fire?
Is he going to really going to give the UK a great trade deal?
Oh no, that’s set off thoughts of Brexit. Our summer holiday cost us a lot more this year with the tumbling pound. Surely it will only go up next year and then there are people like Ryan Air boss Michael O’Leary claiming flights between the UK and the EU will be cancelled for months after Brexit unless agreements are put in place before we quit.
So we’ll be stuck on holiday in the UK and its terrible weather. Summer has been a kind of slightly milder but wetter version of winter.
After work you wind your way home, spending 90 minutes in the ‘rush hour’ trying to get from Halifax to Huddersfield and arrive to find all the lights on in the house.
As you go round switching each one off you’re hit with the news there’s a leak under the kitchen sink or the dog’s been to the vets and has cost another couple of hundred quid.
There’s only one remedy. The wine.
And then you remember the repeated warnings ‘please drink responsibly’ and think of them again as you fill up the second glass.
Finally to bed and a few hours sleep so you’re refreshed to do it all again tomorrow.
