On my escapes from lockdown I've noticed new behaviour trends. Irrepressible social beings as we are, these changes are mainly friendly.
But I am also finding lockdown is smoking out some decidedly annoying behaviour, namely smug exercising couples and glaring power-walkers.
First to the positive - that the unifying strains of lockdown have thawed the majority when it comes to engaging in chit-chat.
Step up the over-friendly queuer. You know this type - they are the ones turning around to you in the Lidl queue with a bright smile and an inane observation such as "definitely busier today, I only waited a minute on Monday" as a sparkling conversation starter.
I know this sort inside out, because I am firmly in the dock here.
Put me in a queue, any queue - the airport car rental, Butlers, cinema tickets - and I'm looking for nothing less than instant friendship with the poor unfortunates behind or in front.
At these times, my partner will shake his head gently and close his eyes. It is baffling to him why I do this. And I don't know why I rush in to fill the silence but it seems awkward not to, and now we are in a pandemic it seems even odder to remain mute, and other people seem to be feeling the pressure.
My technique usually has a 50/50 successful outcome but I'm finding the odds are way higher now with roughly nine out of 10 people responding warmly. A few frosties remain, but not many.
And, these days, half the time I don't even start the conversation.
Queueing to get my parents milk at the petrol station near their house last week a woman turned around to wonder what I was buying because the previous Sunday they were out of cream. Within seconds she knew my set-up and I knew she had two cats and a mother in a nursing home.
The second phenomenon is one that, for some reason, really gets my goat.
I've noticed a growing number of fleet-of-foot Romeo and Juliet duos in the park working on their glutes together with zeal. Pre-pandemic, you did see the odd press-up but nothing like the energetic performances that are going on now.
As they methodically work though their routine of side lunges, tricep dips and squats - stopping to give each other a quick kiss or a high five - these couples ooze an air of being sorted, of having meaning and purpose.
They wholesomely glower with mutual respect, trust, honesty and compliance. They seem so well-matched and it's just too much for me.
Of course, the reality is I am dead jealous and bitter.
I would love to go for a bracing run with my beau but he has zero interest in couples exercise. And when I do yoga at home he fires satsumas at my head. He is more likely to join my book club - which he claims to be scared of - than get into a downward dog.
Moving on swiftly to the next pandemic personality, has anyone else passed by a boot-faced power-walker who almost melts into the wall to let you past, even with 10 metres between you?
Fair enough, my crew tearing into the street on their scooters probably look like a gang of determined vectors, so I understand the physical recoil, and we are supposed to be keeping our distance, but it's the pained expression that gets me. Is it necessary to look annoyed?
In Spain, kids aged under 14 were only let out last Sunday, so things could be a lot worse.
My nine-year-old nephew, who lives in Madrid, went for a walk last weekend for the first time in six weeks - thank goodness Ireland did not have to go down this route.
Over the past weeks, when I complain to my brother on Zoom about the odd irate walker, he tells me in a quiet voice I am lucky to get out at all and perhaps they are having a bad day.
And it's true, you never know what is going on in anyone's life and there are many bad days happening right now.
But even when it is the last thing you want to do, it's always nicer for everyone - the giver and the receiver - to throw a smile out just in case anyone needs it, especially now that we are only seeing a few faces a day.
The last behaviour is the unlikely friendships which are emerging.
I speak to this guy in his 80s every day at the cricket club where I take the kids for their runaround. A socially distanced chat, of course. We talk about all sorts of things and I look forward to seeing him.
And now, because of a newly set-up WhatsApp group for my street, I actually know people's names and can say hello when I see them out and about or in their gardens painting the railings.
Will our behaviour change when lockdown is lifted? Who knows.
Hopefully we will keep the good bits and the sweating Romeo and Juliets will go back to doing their drills at the gym so I no longer feel envious of their perfect togetherness.
Or maybe, like some scowling strollers, I just need to work on myself to be more tolerant.