You see, I told you it would happen, the World Cup has burst into life.
All it needed was a wee prompt from myself before we all slipped into a coma.
France have turned out to be as rubbish as everyone predicted, Spain have managed to lose despite being the best team, and the Argies are really good despite having Maradona as a coach.
But then there's England. Predictably terrible.
Why, oh why, do we get so excited every four years just to be unbelievably disappointed?
I knew Tim Henman wasn't going to win Wimbledon, I know the limitations of Tottenham Hotspur FC, but sense and logic leaves the building when it comes to England.
And even writing this, admitting my own delusion, I'm wondering if my next blog will be after a storming win over Slovenia and I will be dreaming of romping to World Cup glory.
Such is the curse of an England fan.