Dangerous Traits.

An angry man. A drunken man. A gambling man. As I walked over to The Hedgehog on Sunday evening to watch the Rams game I was confronted by a man who was getting increasingly agitated. He told me his Mrs had "let him down". What that meant I hate to think. He'd been paid and he was ploughing more and more money into the fruit machine. And he was drinking Stella, the drink of drunken toxic men so often that we call it "wife beater". What a dangerous combination.

As I watched the Rams roll to another hard fought victory this man went on and on. When he finally stormed out he had put £230 in and come out with nothing. Addiction if that is a legitimate term can be a cruel thing. A man I once knew who had started smoking cannabis at 7 and was on heroin at 11 once told me he doesn't use the word addict because then it is seen as an illness and not therefore his responsibility. "I can choose to use drugs or I can choose not to use drugs".

After the events of my life recently that was just another experience in the world that passes for mine. After my fury of Friday I wrestled things for a day, cooked fine food, switched upwards again in mood but I'm still in control.

Even going back to work, and it has been exceptionally busy, I'm still doing well. And I'm not manic. Today is pay day so I indulged myself at the Turkish barbers then had a set menu at Cote with a nice glass of wine.

Now it is opera night and Handel is playing. I have a glass of Rioja. The heating is on-that wasn't working at the weekend-and I feel cosy. Progress continues on Goodbye to Berlin and I've started a book called Prisoners of Geography an exploration of the crazy geopolitical world we live in. So on this night my life is under control, I feel good, and I'm marching on. Tomorrow back to therapy...I have many stories to tell.

I Heard a Voice.