Recently, I met up with an ex who told me her mornings had improved dramatically since our break-up.

At first, she presumed it was because my ugly puss was no longer one of the first things she saw when she opened her eyes.

And mostly it was. But then she realised it was also because she was no longer forced to join in my professional obligation of listening to Good Morning Scotland.

Instead, she could have 6 Music. Or Smooth FM. Or the hum of the fridge.

No wonder her mood had lifted.

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