Unable to sleep, I got out of bed and looked out the peephole in the front door. A hipster food van had pulled up outside and three people were unloading boxes outside my front door. I was immediately incandescent with rage and flung open the door, demanding to know what they were doing and why they were doing it at 2.45 in the morning. “Delivering these parcels”, one of them said, as if I were an idiot.

I stepped outside to look at the boxes. The labels featured a photograph of my front door, but the address was not mine. “This label clearly says ‘Southampton'”, I screamed. This caused much hilarity from the couriers and I went into an epic, sweary rant. This made them laugh even more. I had lost my cool and my dignity.