The Little Things

I won't bother talking about the football, because it's not really a contentious issue.

In the back of my mind I was thinking it might be good for us not to qualify, because:

a) we don't deserve to
b) McClaren will go
c) it will stop everyone thinking we're some global football power when our one major achievement came over forty years ago

But, I feel a bit sorry for the Paul of next summer, as it's not quite as fun watching a tournament as a bystander.

***

I have a real problem with physical ettiquette. And I think people can tell.

I'm not a hugger, for one. That's not to say I'm aversed to a hug. By no means. If someone wants to hug me, I'm happy to oblige.

But I'm never willing to instigate a hug, as I lack confidence. I don't want to misread the situation and get kneed in the balls. And no-one instigates the hug with me because they can sense my uneasiness. Which leads to awkwardness when they've already hugged my companion.

I don't mind really. But I hope they don't think that I'm an undesirable hug-partner. I haven't got any diseases or anything.

I've also got into an annoying system of greeting at work. Because I want to be pleasant, but am shy, I smile hello to people in the corridor. This is ok, until they respond with a friendly 'Hi!'.

What do I do then? I usually feel compelled to return the Hi, but because it's kind of an afterthought, and by that time they're already walking away, it sounds broken and squeaky and inadequate, and I sound like I'm some maniac trying to act normal, when I've actually got plastic explosives up my arse and a lit match under my tongue.

There should be uniform rules to avoid this. I could wear the social equivalent of a 'do not disturb' sign round my neck (perhaps a severed monkey-paw with the middle finger extended) and people could just bow in deference.