I know parents that are like this - overprotective, always worried, always looking over the top of their books for their children, wondering where the next accident is going to come from.
That's me. Except I'm fending for a mini-zoo. And nine times out of ten, the only danger in sight is me and my clumsy feet. Still, that doesn't stop me from staring out at the dark clouds, listening to the thunder, and hoping that my fluffy kids are ok, and not too scared, all alone in the big dark house.

This feeling is not conducive to a happy working atmosphere. Mind you, I'm worrying about more than my four-legged children and the slick tyres on my 125cc.
I'm also worried about the state of current affairs. Having just told my official friend that everyone should lighten up, that times are not as dark as feared, etc, etc, I've read the news, heard the crashing rand wobble up against the railings of the edge of no return, and bid a friend farewell to the comforting hold of a prison.

Violence, poverty, fires, droughts, floods, weak economical situations and a lower standard of education. Panic is not only imminent, but is a foregone conclusion. As is a sudden desire for a less complex anthem and a dual-party political system. Who needs diversity in the face of crisis? A united front is required!
We don't want or need to be a Rainbow Nation any more, we want to be a homogenised culture, one man, one colour, one creed, and a simple song in our hearts. Something easy to remember would be nice, right?
Wrong.
Whether we are Xhosa or the minority white Seventh Day Adventists, what we want is a lot of peace, a bit of prosperity, good food, and you-get-what-you-pay-for services from our government. For my own sake, I'd add a garden for our kids. (Not quite the American white picket fence and fifteen metres of front lawn, just a garden.  A small tree wouldn't hurt either.) We also want the freedom to be ourselves. From the corporate suit to the middle-aged mama, no one of us wants to live according to other's definitions.
We are intelligent, hard-working, friendly, optimistic people as a rule, we just don't handle adversity with a cheerful countenance.
But then who does?
Not even The Apprentice's candidates wear smiles all the time. And their professional masks often slip when faced with Trump's curt 'You're fired'.
But perhaps we could practice a little stiff-upper-lipisms and take-it-on-the-chinisms. Perhaps we could try out smiling a little more often instead of snarling while lost in thought. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. 
Perhaps tomorrow we'll wake up and it will be no worse and no better and we'll forget to be gloomy and down-trodden for a day. 

The thunder has passed, and I've stopped glaring at everyone praising the beautiful weather. I'll be home in a few hours, and what else could be better than to know I'll have five beautiful, matted fur, muddy cuddlies waiting for me?