Ben Machell searches for joy during his daily walk on the angry side

Over the past few weeks I’ve noticed that my daily walk into work — a three-mile trudge from Hackney, down through The City and then over the river — has become increasingly fraught. The sweaty Sturm und Drang of it all has been getting on top of me, and I’ve started getting very uptight about my fellow foot commuters. Tetchy. Angry. Looking for reasons to get annoyed with anyone who comes within five feet of me.

So there’s the guy outside Liverpool Street who keeps trying to get me to sign up for paintballing. Every time I walk past. Have I heard about paintballing, he always wants to know? Yes. You know full well I have. It’s all you ever talk about. Then there are my long-standing nemeses, the people walking around with big boxes of doughnuts, the chirpy-yet-needy workers who hijack every office birthday celebration. I see you and know what you’re up to.

Who else? The City boys with umbrellas the size of beer garden parasols. I’ve started walking towards them without flinching in the hope of having an eye gouged out, just so that I can legitimately go fully Game of Thrones on them. The kamikaze pedestrians who seem to think the hallowed rituals of the pelican crossing are for others. The people who, when your headphones catch on something and get brutally yanked out of your ears, just stand and watch, rather than immediately rushing over, sitting you down, getting you a sugary tea and asking if there’s anybody you’d like them to call. Callous scumbags all.

In these moments, though, I try to stay Zen by looking out for the people who always cheer me up. So anyone eating a banana, for example. For some reason, I always think well of banana eaters. And rollerbladers. And cheerful, chubby men in tight Breton stripes. Finally, crossing the bridge over the Thames, I always look for the people peering over the side and clearly thinking the same thing as me: could I jump onto the roof of that passing Thames barge? You can always spot them, pausing and looking down thoughtfully, Bourne-style action sequences flashing through their heads. It’s a heartening, cheering sight. Thank you.