Don’t take no for an answer

One might have thought fatherhood would mellow me out, curb my aggressive streak. But no. I walked to work today, and there’s a zebra crossing where half the drivers believe they have right of way over pedestrians. After all, they’ve spent a lot of money on their pointless 4x4s and a man propelling himself without an internal combustion engine is clearly an economic freeloader.

I should be used to this after having the same commute for over a year, but it never fails to rile me. This time, as I stepped onto the crossing, a man driving a small white car lurched toward me and only stopped at the last moment. I looked at him, a snarl creeping across my visage, and I lowered my head slightly, like a bull preparing to charge. I considered balling my fists as well, but that might have been too much. After all, there aren’t many examples of fights between men and cars where the men win. Then again, as I’ve said before, never take no for an answer. Especially if the question is “Do you want a punch in the face?”

Still, I felt the dirty look I’d given him had sufficiently cowed this chap. Maybe another day I’ll waggle an admonishing finger at him. Or maybe I’ll pop a fake blood capsule in my mouth, let out a bloodcurdling screech and reenact the start of a generic zombie film from the early 21st century.

Because that’s bound to ensure I get a renewed visa when my old one expires next year.

Strangely, this turned out to be just enough stimulation to start my day off properly, and I had a good time of it, although I was overconfident enough to drink a cup of coffee, which left me with jangled nerves, startled by everyone and everything in the office.

I’d walk past somebody, they’d say hello, I’d go “bwwwaaargh” and jump ten feet in the air. So much the same as normal, then.

Foremanbaby came to the office to inspect my workplace today, and after being a paragon of good behaviour she fouled herself and I had to help change her in a deserted meeting room (our office has a paucity of childcare facilities, unless you count locking yourself in the toilet) before sending her home with her mother. After that excitement, I went for a 5k run (4 yesterday and 5 today demands 6 tomorrow and 30 on the 30th), then came home and collapsed when I was meant to be going out for a comedy show. Maybe that aggressive rage this morning had worn me out. My wife and I counted the money in our piggy bank. More than $300 in small change. No wonder it weighed more than Foremanbaby does.

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