It is not enough for us to succeed, others must fail

Between you and me I’ve been feeling pretty sorry for myself over the past 24 hours. Nothing exciting, I'm afraid, just a sttupid string of reasons: bit stressed/depressed at work, yet to tackle my complicated and stupidly all-my-own-fault wisdom teeth related woes, having vague flashbacks to events of the weekend I only just remember and facing the fresh possibility I will NOT be seeing The Jesus and Mary Chain this weekend I have been stewing in my own juices at approximately 180 degrees.

And then I went to The Guardian website for some light relief and read this story.

“For most of his life John Smithers was a respected family man who ran a successful business. Then he started paying for sex. Now, in his 70s, he explains how his behaviour has left him broke, alone and tormented… “I am 70 years old and used to be respectable. I was a magistrate for 25 years, and worked hard to feed my children and build up the family business. I was not the most faithful of husbands, but I tried to be discreet about my affairs. Now I seem to be a liability. Over the last two decades I have spent a fortune on prostitutes and lost two wives. I have made irrational business decisions that took me to the point of bankruptcy. I have become an embarrassment to my nearest and dearest.””

It’s pretty grim stuff and compelling reading. And while I wouldn’t say I’m not completely aware of just how sweet I have it and determined never again to feel sorry for myself I am feeling distinctly perkier, with a bounce in my step and a sort-of smile on my mug. Or is that the diet coke speaking? Ahem, you be the judge...