A small piece of roast beef stuck somewhere in my top teeth.
The need to find a donor car to provide a catalytic converter for Mr Cougar.
The lifting of the humiliating feeling of falling on my fat bum in mud at the football while deftly trying to trap a ball and failing spectacularly.
The small matter of repairing the frazzled Irish economy - help is at hand from a team of experts being released by our national disgrace RBS however.
Not looking forward to some sustained up and coming Flybe new and miserable experiences.
Once these minor irritations evaporate, it'll all be good.