Tag Archives: Regret

That Ends With “Y”

By order of appearance.

 

Tuesday – a.k.a “Chewsday.”

Wednesday – Sneaks up on you because it almost always never comes. Hard to remember, easy to forget. Happy Humpday.

Thursday – Pre-Friday, Post-Tuesday. A place holder day if there ever was one.

Friday – Never too soon, or soon enough. Sometimes too soon and too much. Right?

Saturday – [redacted]. You know.

Sunday – Promises, promises. Nothing guaranteed. Sorry (not sorry).

Monday – Sunday’s regrets. Dregs, trepidations realized and reset. Something for everyone on this day. Please, help yourself.

 

 

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Filed under Routines, THE FUTURE, THE PAST, Time

100% of the Ones You Don’t Take

The professor’s face was set amongst pleasantly rounded features – stub nose, soft cheeks spread across the gentle slope of his jawline, topped off by a pat of fine ginger hair and a pair of affable eyes that rested lazily under slightly-smudged and overlarge glasses.

We had been discussing my future as a graduate student. I mumbled something along the lines of “kind of” to one of his inquiries about my academic intents and ambitions.

“‘Kind of?’” he responded, laughter pulling those features into sharp, fine lines. “You’re either pregnant or you’re not.”

That sentence haunted me for a really long time. Months, weeks and so on. Even today, I think about it still.

That, and my response, which was simply a listless and non-committal, “Yeah.”

God. Damn. It.

So many other things that could have been said in that seconds after “you’re not.” So many things that should have been. Among these:

  • “Only if I don’t know who the father is.”
  • “Schrödinger’s pregnancy!”
  • “Sir, I am pregnant until I’m not. And I’m not until I am.”

Glorious, no?

***

I think I have finally realized what happened, way back then. I missed it.

I had missed my shot.

Other people had said similar things to me since.

But it’s not the same.

Besides, the universe is not to be trusted when it comes to do-overs.

So many regrets in this life. In the end, what’s one more?

One more yeah.

 

 

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Filed under Education, People, Relationships, THE FUTURE, THE PAST

Bad, Worse, Worst Advice

A lot of bad advice – some solicited, most decidedly not – over the years.

1. “If you don’t want to have a baby, just have one.”
2. “You should get married so my daughters can be flower girls at your wedding.”
3. “Just feel sorry for them and help.”

Of these three, only the third has been truly damaging (the first two are blatantly self-serving, but also so patently ridiculous as to be laughable – actually laughed in the face of Advice Giver #2).

Of the three, the third has caused me so much trouble, some heartache.

No one wants to be pitied. To help or be with anyone just because you pity them diminishes you both. Makes you linger in a relationship long after it’s gone bad; makes you engage in one that was bad to begin with. Makes you excuse behaviour (yours, theirs) that in any other circumstance (i.e. those outside the parameters of the pity party circle) would simply not stand in the harsh but brilliant light of day.

Took a while to learn all that because it sounds good, doesn’t it? Pity does.

Pity (noun):*

1. a. sympathetic sorrow for one suffering, distressed, or unhappy; b. capacity to feel pity.

It is as evidently self-serving as it is apparently self-sacrificing. It’s what allows you to invest massive amounts of emotional and physical labour – of time, effort and expense – with little or no or (more often than not), negative return.

All because you feel sorry for someone. Because you feel bad for them. Because you’re a good person doing a good thing for someone you truly, truly needs it (and from you in particular).

Ha.

I have stayed in all manner of toxic relationships because of pity. Pity is what kept us together, even if it kept us down.

Whose fault is that? Whose responsibility? Who’s to be held accountable?

Pity (noun):

2. something to be regretted.

More’s the pity, I suppose.

And less is more.

 

 

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* Source: https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/pity.

 

 

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Filed under Communications, Language, Relationships

The Jar

There is this very large pickle jar currently sitting on my counter that I should recycle, should get rid of, but won’t.

I want to get rid of it, but also no I don’t.

IMG_9218

It is truly a large, mightily impressive jar. It is, I guess, aspirational.

The possibilities!

I used to put all sorts of things in empty jars:

  • Bugs (grasshoppers, crickets and spiders I’d eventually release, and often back outside too)
  • Buttons (buttons belong in jars!)
  • Nuts (chestnuts and acorns from around the neighbourhood because where else would they go though?)
  • Change (not “spare change,” that’s a luxury)
  • Paper clips and screws (they just seem to go together, don’t they?)
  • TACKS

So many things. So many jars. But no more.

The very large pickle jar currently sitting on my counter…maybe it’s not so aspirational then. But nostalgic.

I’d read somewhere that the root meanings of nostalgia are “longing” and “regret.”

“Homecoming” and “pain.” And an empty jar.

I don’t even like pickles, not all that much.

Not really.

 

 

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Filed under Food, Hobbies, Philosophy, THE PAST