Last night’s slumber incorporated a dream sequence where my estranged wife and I became embroiled in a heated argument. I’m unsure what these confrontational night visions meant, but it was refreshing to be back bickering after months of cordiality….. I bizarrely kinda missed it.

Although still apart, over the last few months our relationship has been a great deal more amicable than earlier in the year when, for my birthday, she gave me an abusive card and a gift of COVID.

These last few weeks even her Post Office delivered hate mail, which she used to send on a weekly basis, has seemingly reduced. Actually, that’s not strictly true; to be more accurate, it’s not arriving in as timely fashion as previously.

Circumstances most likely due to the mail system creaking from processing huge volumes of packages consequential of an upcoming holiday season; along with, due to COVID, a big rise in online shopping

Seriously, though, Karen and I haven’t had an argument for months. Hopefully, I’ll soon be able to employ a similar conciliatory telephone manner with call centres contacting me to seek my retail spending behaviour. Subsequently, saving me a fortune in anger management therapy.

Seriously, again, life’s so much nicer when existing in perfect harmony; side by side on my piano; keyboard, oh lord, why don’t we……. Apologies, I appear to have just subconsciously meandering into a segment of lyrics from the 1982 Stevie Wonder/Paul McCartney hit ‘Ebony & Ivory’.

As my estranged wife and I are both white, are situation isn’t comparable to the song’s race tolerance message, as relayed by Stevie and Paul. However, I’d venture the seeking of harmony advocated within it’s lyric is relevant to any relationship in discord.

My anger management classes have being going well of late. The therapists strategy of me adorning a rubber band on my wrist, which I twang every time I’m irked, appears to be bearing fruit.

This small win being when cursing these days it’s consequential of pain caused by the released band’s impact on my wrist. This volley of expletive not directed at the original root cause of my chagrin; as of yore…… Ok then, I admit it, my anger management classes aren’t going well at all!

My 49th and 50th self-published books have just arrived from my publishers Blookup. Tome 49 is my second book of pencil caricatures, which I’ve titled Gary Catures. These sketches depicting a bunch of TV, music and movie stars, including John Cleese, John Lennon and a plethora of successful stars not called John.

Book 50 is titled We’re Doomed, Doomed I Tell Ye!. A selection of my autumn 2020 journals, this prose contains observations on a variety of subjects. These including topics like COVID, US presidential election shenanigans and a series of absurd questions written for online quizzes with buddies.

Also incorporated within this whimsical literary smorgasbord, which East Leeds Clarion newspaper reviewed as ‘Not as s***e as I thought it’d be’, details of stress resultant from living at my mums during lockdown.

Although grateful for mater putting a roof over my head, an existence which’s enabled me to better understand why Norman Bates went absolutely bats**t crazy.