What if.
I found myself lamenting about a number of different things this week. What if I had just folded my stupid laundry the minute it came out of the dryer? What if I replaced each cookie I had this week with a fruit or vegetable? What if I had just told him the truth about how I am feeling?
Regrets. They haunt you. They're painful because no matter how hard you try, you will never be able to get that moment in time back.
If I had folded my laundry, I wouldn't be walking around in clothes that looked like I'd just gotten pounced on by a raccoon. (Probably the same raccoon that stole my right flip-flop at the pool in Dallas. True story folks.) If each cookie had been a fruit or vegetable, I'd be reaching my weekly nutrition goals. If I had told him how I am feeling, I wouldn't be sitting here wondering if he is feeling the same way. (Sappy and pathetic, I know.)
Point being, I finished off the week with a plethora of what ifs and if only's. I didn't even realize it until I found myself sitting on my bed staring at my basket of unfolded laundry (it's only been there four days. . . . everyone be cool, it's just a normal day), glaring at the cookies conveniently placed on my nightstand, and holding my phone in my hand hoping I'd receive a call.
I guess the only thing to do from here, since I have complained for a relatively good chunk of time about my regrets now, is wrap up my complaining. I'll fold my laundry, finish off the cookies and follow them up with a carrot or two, and play bejeweled on my phone rather than wait for it to ring.
Yeah. That sounds like a step in the right direction to me. At least it's a start. . . .
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