What I do in the morning when I get out of my lovely, warm bed: Stub my toe on the cold, hard table; anger grips me in its choke-hold and I swear… a lot. The wife doesn’t look happy with me, she never does when I get angry – I get this from my Father, but I’m trying to change.
Things I am scared our children will do: Bump their knees and use their anger against the pain like I do, instead of accepting it for what it is.
What I see on the side of the road on the way to work: A police sign that looks like an advert. Not the usual one that says “fatal accident here!” with the date underneath, but one that said “fatal injury, can you help?” I thought I might phone the police and offer my services, but they would probably send an officer out to section me.
What I did when I stopped chuckling to myself over the road sign: Pondered the poor person or persons that were in that accident, and the people they left behind. Life is so fragile. I hoped they lived theirs to the full.
What Beyoncé sings on the radio: To the left, to the left; everything you own in a box to the left.
Where I think she is standing: Next to her house.
What my head is: Feeling better, for the most part.