On reflection

I sometimes sadden and frustrate myself with the great multitude of profound regrets I have about how I have lived my life.

A comprehensive list would be the apex of counter-productivity, and I'm conscious of how destructive that could be to one's sense of self worth.  I have the unfortunate habit of keeping some of the more significant missteps in mind, telling myself it's for fear of having not learned something the first time.  "That's why," says my brain (in a smashingly rude Cockney accent), "You're a styoopid wanka'!" 

Now if only my mouth could as perfectly nail all the various British accents my brain has no problem with...