There are some things in life that take you by surprise. Take my recent pang of sympathy for our prime minister, for example.
I didn't think it was possible to feel remotely sorry for Theresa May, the woman who has managed to make a tripe sandwich out of a sow's ear.
There are some May sympathisers who argue hers is a thankless task, a political hiding to nothing, due to the unique circumstances she finds herself in. The counter argument is she wasn't press-ganged into skippering jolly old Brexit Britain but was a more than eager volunteer.
It wasn't long ago she was offering us her vision of a strong and stable future. The only reason she’s still in number 10 is that she isn't Jeremy Corbyn. Or Michael Gove.
Rather than her obvious shortcomings as a leader of a G7 nation, it is her lack of natural rhythm which has seen me, albeit temporarily, join Team Theresa.
Some commentators and critics described her performances at functions in South Africa and later in Nairobi as cringeworthy, toe-curling and the worst ever dancing by a politician.
Pessimistic Remainers reckoned the routine, which featured a 360 degree reverse shuffle, served as a disco-based metaphor for the aforementioned negotiations to leave the European Union.
No, it didn't make for pretty viewing which is why my heart went out to our PM as I too possess the natural grace of a broken rocking horse.
I am acutely aware that rather than John Travolta in his Saturday Night Fever pomp, I actually more closely resemble a plate of jelly rotating in a microwave.
But, do you know what? I could not give two hoots as, when I am letting it all hang out, I really could not be happier, which is kind of how May looked as she conducted her own brand of ‘dancefloor diplomacy’ last week.
There are some of us who are never going to get maximum points from the Strictly judges but the beauty of dancing is it’s open to everybody.
Whether or not she survives beyond B-Day next March remains to be seen, but one thing is for sure, Theresa May will continue to enjoy a dance long after her career comes to an end.