They say that regret is a wasted emotion.
Why fret one’s life away by wishing that we had (or indeed hadn’t) done something when nothing can ever change that deed. Much as I try, however, I do occasionally, when feeling sorry for myself, look back and wish that I had done things differently. Takng a different road, as a new age counsellor might say.
Of course, I sure ain’t going to list all those regrets here – for goodness sake my children might read this and they think I am a bad enough mother already. I’m only one confession from them putting in a call to Childline.
Anyway, all that said, there are times when something can be remedied to a certain extent.
Back in 2011 I remember reading brilliant reviews for a play called One Man, Two Guvnors which was being staged at the National Theatre in London. Much as I love the idea of nipping down to the Big Smoke to catch a play and then going to Sheekeys for a late-night meal, neither my family life nor my purse allows me such luxury. Then, and you could have knocked me down with a feather, didn’t this play tour the regions, with the original cast, before bedding down in the West End.
But for one reason or another I didn’t buy a ticket and every so often I do attempt to kick myself. When I’ve been to more yoga classes perhaps I shall actually achieve this feat one day. But next Tuesday, guess where I shall be? That’s right, I’ll be sitting in the Festival Theatre waiting for the curtain to rise on that very play. Ok, it’s not the original cast, but it’s a darn good one.
Needless to say there was a slight hiccup – nearly everyone I knew had already seen the play or was going away for half term. Thank the Lord for Fraser, who is as disorganised as yours truly. I just hope he behaves himself so I don’t regret taking him as my guest to the theatre.