8.32am. I open the curtains. Cars crouch by the kerb, waiting. A heavy sky presses down on the rooftops. I go back to bed.

"Sometimes I'm happy.

Sometimes I'm blue -

My dispostion depends on on you..."

- No it doesn't. You have a mental illness. It's called Manic Depression.

- Really? I thought it was just a phase I was going through.

- Oh, very droll.

- Well shut up! And pass me the lithium salts.

(cheers RJ)