The first spanner hit the wall with a discordant clang. The second – moments later – struck a truer note and bounced back, hitting Simon on the hand. Expletives followed but were lost in the metallic morass of the engine bay. Simon lifted his shaking head from under the bonnet, slammed it down and ran inside to call Max.

Ten minutes later, his friend pulled up outside.

“Let’s go, Max,” said Simon urgently as he dropped into the passengers seat. “My meeting’s at 9.30 and it’s critical. I’ve got to convince this client that I can cope with this big contract; being late won’t send a good message.”

Leaning forward in his seat, Simon spent the next five minutes spattering Max with the problems of his car and his anxieties about the upcoming meeting, as well as his worries about the declining value of his share portfolio. The onslaught was slowed only when Max hit the brakes heavily to avoid a car which cut in front of them.

“What the…!” cried Simon. “I can’t believe he did that. Catch up and I’ll give him a serve at the next lights.” Ignoring Simon, Max kept his eyes ahead and stayed in his lane. The villainous car turned left at the next side street leaving Max’s passenger muttering to himself about idiots on the road.

Eventually Simon fell silent for a while. Then he glanced at his watch.

Can’t you speed up a bit, Max? We’re 15 minutes away and my meeting’s in ten. If I’m late I’m going to be stressed out and that’s not the impression I want to give. Man I wish this traffic would keep moving!”

Max allowed himself a quiet smile. As he came to a stop at the next lights, he looked across at Simon who was sitting right forward now and drumming his fingers on the dash. The market news announced itself on the radio.

“Turn it up,” said Simon. “This share market dip is going to kill me.”

Max turned the radio off. He ignored his friend’s glare by concentrating on the traffic, allowing the sound of the car to thrum uninterrupted for a time. “You know,” he said after a moment, “your life would be a whole lot more simple if you stopped awfulizing so much.”

“Awfulizing? What the hell does that mean?” asked Simon.

“It means over-worrying about problems that are actually relatively minor in the overall scheme of things.” Max paused then continued. “How much emotional energy have you spend already today? On a share dip which really means nothing: you have no intention of selling any shares at the moment anyway. On a car problem that was easily worked around by ringing me. On a driver who did something stupid but who we will have forgotten about in a few minutes…”

“Okay, okay. I get it, I think. But none of this is going to get me to this meeting on time is it? And that will be bad. It’s a big deal.” Simon checked his watch again.

“Why don’t you ring Kathy and ask her to tell them you’ll be a few minutes late?” asked Max steadily. “Then you can gather your thoughts and not walk into the board room in your current awfulized state.”

Simon grumbled something to himself about awfulizing Max as he rummaged around in his bag to find his phone. Eventually he made the call, talking with his assistant briefly, then fell back into his seat.

“Here we go” said Max, accelerating as the traffic finally opened up a little. “I’ll have you there in no time.”

Simon turned towards Max with a wry smile. “Actually there’s no rush,” he said. “The clients are running 20 minutes late themselves. Car problems apparently!”

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