Of late I have found myself becoming a miserable old sod and getting grumpy with everyday things that shouldn't really get to me.
For instance it annoys me that the people renting the house next door park one of their many cars outside my house when they have more than enough kerb space outside their own. Love to know what the rules are with that.
Then there's cellphones.
In recent weeks I have sat at the traffic lights and watched as line after line of oblivious people wander over the crossing either talking or texting, totally lost in their cellphone lives.
So, it has become obvious I am in danger of becoming that grumpy old sod yelling at the kids to get off my lawn so I decided to take a day off and recharge the batteries.
The day in question dawned bright and cheerful so naturally after I'd hopped out of bed, done my 100 push-ups and consumed a sensible and nutritious breakfast of wholegrain cereal and fruit (ahem) I headed into town.
OK, I may have been a bit liberal with the truth there. What I meant was I crawled out of bed bleary-eyed with stiff muscles that only showed minimal interest in playing the game after two cups of strong coffee.
Regardless, I got into town before the shops opened which was the main aim all along.
Now town is an interesting place before all the action begins. I've long been a fan.
You can basically park anywhere. There's heaps of empty spaces.
One can window shop and meander along empty footpaths without fear of being knocked down by a scooter or skateboard.
Then there's the attitude of the shopkeepers.
When they open first thing in the morning most of them are happy and raring to go, presumably having listened to their self-development CDs in the car and/or done 100 push-ups and consumed a nutritious breakfast of wholegrain cereal and fruit.
If you can be that first customer of the day you are going to get the best service experience. After that it all goes downhill.
So here I am in town early in the morning and it's 30 seconds before opening and I'm standing outside, lightly touching my eftpos card like a gunfighter about to draw.
A lady comes to the door and opens it as I take a step forward.
"I'm sorry. Can you just wait a few more minutes," she says before re-locking the door and hurrying back inside - presumably to finish her press-ups or nutritious breakfast.
Momentarily I am stunned but a familiar noise from my cellphone jolts me back to reality. It's Mrs P.
"Did you get it?," she enquires, with a hint of impatience that suggests I should most definitely have got "it" seeing as it is now 9.02am and the shop opened at 9am.
I feel the need to fill my beloved in on what just happened so I embark on a long winded explanation (I know! Me. Can you believe it) on my cellphone.
Still talking and walking I find a bench seat and sit down.
That's where the fun started.
"Hey!," came a loud yell as I lowered my ample frame. "Get off!".
Now I swear I never saw the guy laying there. Until of course he moved. Which you probably would do with 110kg-plus of newspaper columnist trying to squash you.
In my defence I have to say he was under a blanket which tended to blend in with the background. But yes, I was talking on my phone and was totally distracted.
Mrs P, still on the other end of the phone, heard the commotion and asked what was going on. I muttered something about explaining later and hung up, turning my attention back to the poor bugger I'd just tried to flatten.
I have to say he was very good about it. He saw the funny side of it at least. I felt mortified enough to buy him a coffee and sandwich at least.
And then I scarpered, having shown just how dangerous cellphones can be. Especially if you are minding your own business, having a sleep on a bench seat in town early in the morning.
• Kevin Page is a teller of tall tales with a firm belief too much serious news gives you frown lines. Feel free to share stories to email@example.com.