When I was 18 someone told me that birds don’t sit on electricity lines to keep their feet warm. I have been humble in the presence of new information ever since.

Last month was particularly learny. I gained a new word - matriphagous: to eat your mother. My favourite, however, is a concept explained by my friend Joe after I told him how my mate said “You used to fancy that actor Dexter Fletcher, didn’t you?”, to which I replied “God, I used to, but now he looks f***ing terrible,” only for her to step aside and reveal the man she was bringing over to me - Dexter Fletcher.

“The more professional and grown-up I become in some ways, the more often stupid things like this happen,” I complained. “It’s almost like the world’s trying to punish me for becoming more organised. I finally learned how to programme numbers into my mobile - and then the world just blows chaos back into my life. How could she know Dexter Fletcher? You don’t mention Dexter Fletcher in a pub and then have him be in the pub.”

“The universe is punishing you for being more orderly,” Joe said. “That’s the first rule of, er, thermal science or something. When you create some order, you displace surrounding chaos, which then creates more chaos. It’s a scientific fact. I read it on Ceefax or something.”

“So if I finally get around to pairing my socks, am I going to create so much displaced chaos that someone drives a snowplough into Ted Danson?” “No, because it works in reverse, as well,” Joe explained. “Every time you do something chaotic, you create space for order. I would never have done my tax return if the World Trade Center hadn’t collapsed.” I was going to tell him his theory was cobblers, until I remembered that I’d done my tax return that week as well.