Today it's one of those beautiful but bitingly cold mornings.
Hurrying home from the school run to my lovely warm office I had a sudden vivid flashback to being about 15 years old and standing shivering with cold, misery and deep, deep resentment on a frosty hockey pitch during one of those endless, punishing PE lessons.
Suddenly I wanted very much to stride over the frozen mud to that scowling teenager (muttering a few choice words to the Nazi PE teacher on the way) and tell her it would all turn out alright. That one distant day, mildewed aertex and ritual humiliation in the name of team sports would be a thing of the past and she would be able to spend her days in the warm, dreaming up luscious men.
(I might also tactfully mention, while I was about it, that lusting after George Michael was a big fat waste of time...)
What would you tell your 15 year old self, if you had the chance?