I AM definitely getting old. Television’s Grumpy Old Women have got nothing on me, and compared to my daily rants they seem quite a mild-mannered bunch.

My week of bellowing all started with traffic – speeding traffic and traffic at a standstill.

Funnily enough, traffic featured quite heavily in the middle part of the week as well, and then, just as we thought it was safe to venture outside again at the end of the week, there it was again – traffic jams popping up all over the place just to give my blood pressure the little extra kick needed to make me want to lie down and order a bicycle (or a helicopter or a chauffeur).

First of all, considering the fact that we are in a double dip recession with petrol prices at an all-time high, and money-saving expert Martin Lewis is banging on about driving slowly to conserve fuel, WHY are people driving like lunatics?

During the last week I have witnessed countless speeding vehicles driven by people who clearly have scant regard for speed limits. I blame Jeremy Clarkson and his ridiculous television programme because now everybody seems to think they are a star in a reasonably priced car and therefore can race everywhere.

One of my freelance jobs means that once a week I travel just over the Oxfordshire border to the delight that is Aylesbury. I began my journalism career there and would make the daily trek down the A41, hoping that I wouldn’t get stuck in a snarl-up.

Many years on I foolishly assumed that the days of crawling at a snail’s pace along one of the main arteries of the region would be a thing of the past, but it was worse than ever. When I finally made it to Aylesbury, road etiquette plummeted to such an extent that I was beginning to think I had mistakenly wandered into the official training ground for white van drivers and sales reps.

Granted, I no longer attempt to drive into central London and I am clearly very out of practice when it comes to sticking on the indicator and barging my way into traffic. I used to be SO good at that...

It made me think more fondly of Oxfordshire’s roads. Although they’re busy, at least most of the time we are quite polite to each other (outwardly at least).