Je Ne Regrette Rien

Okay, this picture. I took it of my left hand in the summer because I got this bruise that looked, well, like an 'old lady' bruise. And I thought "man, I'm getting old." I didn't know how I got it and I haven't had one that looked like it since. I didn't look at it with regret when I saw it, though. Regret isn't something I spend a lot of time on. I'm turned toward the future, hopefully armed with lots of learning. From mistakes.

I asked my dad if I could do anything for him this morning on the phone and he said "not unless you can turn back the clock about twenty years."

It's best not to regret anything except the inexorable passing of time. And you can't stop that so why regret it.

I asked FFP yesterday if he regretted giving anything away. He said not really and I said I hadn't either but he said that I once wrote that I regretted giving away an espresso machine he gave me when we got married. Ha. I guess I did write it. (He's seldom wrong about these things although I don't remember this.) I don't regret that now, for sure. We never used it after we got into owning a Capresso.

My lack of regret over giving things away is giving some measure of confidence to keep on tossing. Of course, it isn't going fast enough. But each cubic foot is a victory and there are little flurries when we get rid of a lot of stuff.

Last night we were dining with a very young lady (not yet thirty) and talking about bad financial advice we'd taken. I don't regret that either. I'm just glad that in spite of bad advice and our own boners we've managed to hang on to a little something.

Yeah, regret. It's so yesterday.