Sunday Scribblings: Regrets

Overall, life is pretty good. Focusing on regrets seems like picking at the threads that make the tapestry of my life. I could remove one thread, but how would that affect the whole? My silly, regrettable threads may not be of the best quality or the brightest colors, but they're part of the whole picture; a picture that, as a matter of fact, I'm quite satisfied with.

That said, I do have regrets:

I regret spending 2 hours playing Word Challenge on Facebook yesterday.

I regret having that second piece of chocolate fudge cake last Wednesday.

I regret that I haven't exercised for two weeks.

I regret ever purchasing pants from Costco.

I mildly regret spending so much time reading in January that I wrote almost nothing.

I regret not knowing what I really wanted to do when I was in college.

I do have one regret that follows me along, nipping at my heels like a really annoying little Yorkie and will not leave me alone.

Over and over I have talked myself out of taking risks because of fear.

Maybe it was fear of rejection or fear of failure. I just think it was fear. I didn't see how something would work out, so I wouldn't even try. I would convince myself that it was a nice dream, but not something I actually needed.

When I was in New York for 3 months as an intern, I thought it would be great to check into becoming a writer for Sesame Street. I knew I wouldn't automatically be hired as a writer, but I could get coffee for Bob and Susan or dust Caroll Spinney's dressing room. I could comb Cookie Monster's fur or clean out Oscar's garbage can...anything.

Sesame Street combined my love of writing for children and my interest in advertising. What is Sesame Street anyway but a collection of advertisements for letters and numbers.

Sesame Street and I were born the same year. I remember the original Mr. Hooper and Kermit the Frog. When Crystal Galye was on Sesame Street I was pretty sure she had the most beautiful hair ever. I thought Bob and Linda were in love and would eventually get married. I feel connected to Sesame Street.

While working for Gannet in New York City, I found out where Sesame Street was. I got their phone number. I found their address. I could have walked to their offices on my lunch break or called them to find out about job openings. Something! I was right there. I could have done something.

But I didn't.

I convinced myself that I was fine going back to Utah. I had to finish school after all. Besides, I didn't really want to live in New York City. It was too expensive and I'd never be able to find a place to rent, even if there was a job. Which there probably wasn't.

I regret letting fear hold me back.

I need to stop doing that. Because I still do it. Sometimes.