Aghhhhhhhhh. He’s checked the sharemarket report, trying to assess its impact on his superannuation balance, and now believes he’ll be restricted to a potato-only diet from 2029.

Oo-oo-oo-ah! He’s attempting to kneel, in the belief that his glasses may have fallen beneath the bed. Yes! There they are!

Arggh. He’s standing up.

Hmph. He checks Facebook only to discover everybody except for him is on a fabulous holiday, at some exotic destination, and all of them have posted photos of their dinner with the sole purpose of reminding him of the comparative tedium of his own life.

Ow. His left hip hurts.

Oww. His right hip hurts.

Owww. Everything hurts.

Ugh. He’s momentarily lost his car keys. He suspects that Someone Else has moved them and shouts a series of bitter accusations.

Uggh. He finds the keys in his pocket.

Uh. He groans briefly in lieu of an apology.

Ooof. He’s manoeuvring himself into the seat of his car.

Errrghhhh. Errgghh. Errgh. He is providing a thoughtful and accurate commentary on the standard of driving among his fellow motorists.

Aghhhhhhhhh. He hears the sharemarket report on the car radio. He now believes the potato-only diet will commence in late 2026.

Hmph. He enters the local supermarket only to find that, due to a “store refresh”, they’ve moved everything around so he no longer can find the eggs, the milk and the bread.

Hmmmph. Due to long queues at the two staffed checkouts, he’s forced to use the self-checkout. The machine then accuses him of trying to steal the vegetables he bought at the vegetable shop. Luckily, he has his receipt and so, after a brief period of Stalinist-style interrogation, he is allowed to leave.

Hmmmmph. Hmmmmph. Hummmph. He mutters and groans all the way home due to his unconscionable treatment at Colesworth.

Oomph. Oomph. Oomph. He’s carrying in the shopping.

Ughhh. He’s preparing dinner and can’t locate the caraway seeds the recipe requires, despite buying some just the other day, and didn’t he arrange all the spices alphabetically, and why has Someone Else made an entire dog’s breakfast of the cupboard so that the only way to find the caraway seeds is to take every single spice out of the cupboard and go through them one by one?

Aghhhhhhhhh. He checks the close-of-trade figures on the sharemarket. Potato diet now scheduled for next week.

Hmmmp. He checks his emails to discover that 45 emails have come in during the day, 43 of which are scams.

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Ungh. Dinner is ready. The clock has struck 5, and he’s just searched the fridge in the belief there must be a beer in there, probably lurking behind Someone Else’s four jars of kimchi. There is no beer.

Unnngh. Finds half a bottle of slightly off shiraz and forces it down.

Omph. Sits down.

Hmph. Hmph. Hmph. Watches annoying politician on 7.30.

Hmmmmph. Watches tiresome bonnet drama that has exactly the same plot as all the other 57 bonnet dramas he has viewed. Still, Someone Else seems to like them.

Ahhhggghhh. Preparing for bed, he’s taking off his socks.

Aghhgh. He’s taking off his undies and putting on his pyjamas.

Aghh. He’s getting into bed.

Full disclosure: this is all based on me. Other men are better.