so near yet so far yet so near

My prediction of doom looked well and truly fulfilled on Wednesday when, after 10 mins, Spurs were a goalkeeper and two goals down to Inter in the San Siro. When it went to 4-0 the boy and I had even given up swearing at the TV. The incredible hat trick from Bale in the second half means that the record will show a close match and an exciting one. The latter is true but not the former. Still we proved we can score against them. Well, we proved that Gareth Bale can score against them. When that third one went in the boy leaped out of his seat and let out a guttural "YEESS" which then turned into a weird squeak. His voice hasn't been the same since. I then stupidly became optimistic and thought we could do it but the ref had had too much and blew up far too early.

Saturday versus Everton was the very definition of lacklustre. 1-1 suggests a touch of excitement but really I got more of thrill vicariously when seeing the enjoyment of a mate from South Africa who had come to his first Spurs game. I sat in the East Stand away from the rest of the crowd and had to endure a commentary on the ref, a lot of moaning and tutting whenever anyone tried to join in the singing. I may have had a better view than normal but I'm not sitting there again.

Score prediction

I'm often less than optimistic when it comes to predicting Spurs results. When we are playing someone like Doncaster in the Carling Cup I imagine complacency, fluky goals and humiliation. It may have happened on relatively few occasions but those moments are seared on each Spurs fan's memory and tend (in the mind of the pessimist) to overshadow the times of triumph. I do sometimes (usually foolishly) lurch from pessimism to optimism but tonight, at the thought of Spurs' challenge in the San Siro, I am laughing much like a man condemned to death. I feel a 3-0 or worse coming on. I know Rafa has replaced Jose but can't get past our defensive frailties.

Paper

I can't keep on top of it. My colleague has a clear desk and a few neat, ordered piles on the periphery. I can barely get to my keyboard to type this. I have a to do list and keep ticking things off but it doesn't seem to diminish the amount I have to do as I keep having to add things to it. "Tidy Desk" always seems so unimportant compared to the other things and, anyway, I don't really know how to tidy my desk. It sounds stupid but it's part psychological, part cognitive dysfuntion I think. I like order. I like tidyness. BUT I am not naturally inclined to achieving that. If literal suffocation or drowning in paper were possible I'd have been dead long ago. Instead I plough on with a permanent sense of foreboding whilst dressing frequent paper cuts.

Werner Von Braun said: "We can lick gravity, but sometimes the paperwork is overwhelming". My 'gravity' is teaching. I'm pretty good at that.