Fear makes me scratchy, irritable, tetchy and generally cross. I can feel the frown on my face and it’s not a pretty sight. It’s usually something to do with work. Something I’ve yet to resolve. It’s an uncomfortable place to be in. And I take it out on him too often. He is forbearing, mostly. I just need to be here at my desk facing it, working through it. And all the other stuff makes me resentful – those domestic things that I want done but get in the way. They don’t of course, it’s just my mood that is imposing a grey, heavy kind of obligation onto them. Buck up, Ellen. Look outwards. Relish the intellectual puzzle of it. You will solve it. You always do.
