<-- start self-loathing Every weekday morning, pretty much, I have coffee with my mother. This morning, as a sweet kind of reminiscence, she brought along a batch of old school reports of mine that she'd found. They covered from the beginning of school - when I was six - through till I was close to finishing school when I was maybe seventeen. It proved to be incredibly depressing. It's not so nice to see every bad trait that you thought you had repeated year after year after year in report comments. Seems like I was always lazy, disorganised, shallow and so on and so forth. At 43, sometimes you realise you get the life you (didn't) work for. end self-loathing -->