Other people do not control my emotions; I do.

Someone pulls out in front of you at a roundabout and the surge is instant, chemical, not up for negotiation. That part isn't a choice and never was.

The interesting stretch is the hour afterwards. The car is long gone and you are still arguing with the driver in your head, promoting him from a stranger who misjudged a gap to a man who has personally decided you don't matter.

He isn't doing that. He is four miles away listening to the radio. The escalation is happening in one place only, which is inconvenient news and also the only useful kind, because it is the only place you can reach.

You don't control the first thirty seconds. You have some say over minute forty.