I am so very full of regrets right now. So full that I’ve got no choice but to finally write a blog entry on these awful, awful feelings of regret. I don’t write much anymore; I definitely don’t write about my personal feelings—very rarely. Tonight, however, I must recap on how far I’ve gone with my regrets, hindsights, and daily things that maybe some people might consider miniscule, but they eat at me like nothing else.
I’m not too sure where all this stems from—insecurities, lack of organization, indecisiveness, love, or maybe I have a talent for being very skilled in hindsight—I should probably ask a psychologist. I guess one of the biggest backhanded compliments one can receive is exactly that: “you’re very advanced in hindsight,” because guess what that means? That means you lack foresight; you lack knowing what to do about something before it’s happened. You probably could never get a job as Ms. Cleo, or anything that involves tarot cards or a crystal ball because you probably would realize after your unhappy customer left that you should’ve plugged the cord for the crystal ball in before they arrived, not after. The literary talent of foreshadowing probably flew over your head when you were reading Poe, or any other author, for that matter. The Three Wise Men should’ve visited you, before Jesus. Maybe if your parents named you ‘Prudence,’ your much needed judgment would arrive before the fact, not after. Further, you cannot be described by adjectives, but more by verbs which highlight your lack of action in the right places at the right time: “should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.”
And most likely, two of the biggest things that continue to eat you is (1) the fact that your thoughts/ideas/decisions that arrive after the fact are so damn extraordinary and matchless to anything you or anyone could have thought of or even done before. And (2) when you orate your regrets to the foresighted people around you, they tell you to stop being so hard on yourself. But, if you won’t, then who will?