Fool.

Some years ago I had a problem. To me, this was quite a serious problem, but really in the grand scheme of things it was trivial issue, and most definately not life threatening. It involved public spaces, other people, and the consumption of foodstuffs.

More often than not, and with people I didn't know, or knew very well, there was nothing to worry about. I could eat as much as I felt I needed to with no problem whatsoever. But in uncontrollable or new situations I felt pangs of anxiety. In short, I usually had to run to the loo to be sick, and after which I could continue quite happily.

Obviously things could not continue along the same channel, and I set out to purchase a self help book. I came across Dale Carnegie's How to Stop Worrying and Start Living. I recommend it to anyone - I really do. It's sensible, straight forward and doesn't offer any quick fixes.

And it worked. Today I am mostly anxiety free. Of course, I still have the odd pangs, but nowere near as bad as I used to.

But at the same time as buying this book, I also bought How to win friends and influence people by the same author. You've all heard of it. You've all derided it as well.

Buy it. It's great.

But admission time - I've ignored most of the advice, and largely to my peril. Over recent days I've noticed myself being far too self reverential, not caring for others interests beyond the impact that they might have upon my own. Of course, this is human nature - we are all interested in ourselves. Perhaps that's why we each get drawn back to writing these blogs.

How do I counter this failing? I don't know - even as I commit the offence, I know that I'm doing it. I don't leave messages on blogs that I've enjoyed. I don't ask with genuine interest how the colleagues previous evening went. I don't care.

I try to compensate by doing random acts of kindness occasionally, but I guess I don't really make the pot of tea as often as I could. I don't smile as often as I could. I don't laugh as often as I could at others' jokes (even when they're shite).

So as I embark on my next trip to Norwich, and unable to blog for a short while, I take this opportunity to consider my lot in life. I'm not as unlucky as I sometimes think I am. I am not as poor, not as ill, not as stupid. But even though I can feel pretty good about myself, how do those around me feel?