Normally, Evan tells me every morning what mistakes he has found in my work from the day before. These aren't ever huge mistakes; usually just a small correction to be made to an address or a house price I've forgotten to enter. Usually there's not more than three or four: I'm not hugely thick, just sloppy. This morning, five minutes ago in fact, he turned to me and said 'I looked at your stuff from yesterday and it's grand. No mistakes at all.'
Well. I'm sorry, but there is something rather proud-making in learning you are improving at something. Even if you do regard that something with a passion close to loathing. It's nearly better that way actually. It's easier to be lofty about it.