So one evening, in the middle of a programme about how some local council had failed its residents, I reached up and retuned to Radio 3.
Suddenly my day is full of Bach(s), Vivaldi, Shostokovich, and yet more strange, exotic and unfamiliar composers and performers. It is populated by an erudite and slightly eccentric group of people who seem to be forever apologising because the last programme has just over-run. And the news bulletins are a gentle whisper that I can barely hear and that are soon replaced by a little gem the presenter has found in his CD collection and wants to share with us.
It's not that I am opposed to Radio 4 programming. Indeed I still return to Radio 4 for (some of) the funnies and plays. It was just the sheer wall-to-wallness of gloom that got to me. To avoid getting caught I usually tune tentatively to R4 ready to tune away again in case I inadvertently get hit by another dose of whinging.
Now I feel more calm and relaxed when I arise (although late for work more often than in the past). And when I get home in the evening I can throw off the shackles of the working day more easily. If only I had done it sooner.
Now all I have to do is ween myself off P+L.