Those of you unfortunate enough to know all of my little quirks know that I love giving everything a deep, mystical meaning.
For example; I'm sitting at work idly wondering why it's so quiet. At that precise moment, three tradesman vans elbow their way into our carpark, both phone lines light up with two unrelated customers complaining of an identical problem, two competing sales reps make an unsolicited call, and my mobile lights up with Sharon telling me that the car has broken down again.
I then contemplate whether this is some kind of universal Murphy-esque phenomenon, some kind of man-made (and baffingly well co-ordinated) conspiracy, or a message from God. And not in a Blues Brothers way.
Here's the latest: My interest in the Jewish people and the Hebrew roots of my faith, and my love for Formula One racing, with particular favour for Brazilian Catholic and all-round-nice-guy Rubens Barrichello, could not be more detached and unrelated.
Until I saw something rather interesting on Rubens' helmet from an in-car shot.
Freaky. Now let me contemplate this. And don't try any "perfectly logical explanation" claims, I won't hear of it!
Well, I am rational enough to avoid suggesting that it brought him the luck he needed to win the Euro GP last night. He won it because he just drove faster than everyone else...