There are regrets, and there are regrets, and there are regrets.
The cake recipe called for 5 eggs, B-grade. On cracking the 5th egg, I wailed. A bad egg, it turned out. Sighed. Wasted 4 good eggs and stuck with smelly fingers. Should have known – don’t put all eggs in one egg-cracking bowl – I’d heard that probably a million times - ReGrets.
On the way home, I saw the road in front being jammed by a growing line of stationary cars. I smiled smugly. Putting on the left-turn signal, I cut into the next lane. I took a left turn for a short cut. Braking almost immediately after the turn. Aiyoh, a longer queue! What was thought to be a short cut had turned into an excruciating driving experience with constant nagging of “I’ve told you so!” from the wife (even though she didn’t say a thing before I made the turn) for the long hours that followed – RegretS.
Standing in a queue waiting to pay at the supermarket, I looked at the watch, my feet shifting intermittently. I cursed. The cashier had been working at the rate of a snail going for a stroll on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Finally, three more customers remained. At this point, a dispute broke out regarding the pricing of an item. After trying to look impatient and to be in a hurry, and appraising the dispensing rate of the next counter, which had five customers waiting, I decided to be bold and change queue. As soon as I stood behind the new line, dispute solved. The snail suddenly put on a turbo booster. Within seconds, the cashier had served five customers. I cursed. I was stuck behind another three customers and wondering whether to be thick skin and jump back to the previous counter which had two customers – reGreTs.
Hot day. Had been craving for an ice cream all days during work. Finally at home after dinner, I opened the fridge, knowing there’s one ice cream left. Panic. No ice cream. I saw my little boy licking happily at my object of desire by the TV. I’d to beg to get five licks, no-more-no-less, insisted my boy. Arrrgh… should have hidden the ice cream immediately after I stepped into the house – rEgrEts.
So tired. Turned off my alarm clock at three in the morning to go back to sleep. Probably just another boring game ending with penalty shootout, I thought. Turned on the TV in the morning for highlights from the Russia vs Spain Euro 2008 semi-final match. The fluency of the passing, the delicacy of the flicks, the speed of the attacking build-up, the ferocity of the barrage on goals, the three goals scored, and the roaring of the crowd… Arrrrgh… I missed all these just so I won’t nap during work??
With finals of major tournament usually less open and entertaining, hopefully I won’t whine about having to sit through 120 minutes watching 22 men on the filed playing defensive football not to lose a game on Monday morning, and then snooze through the rest of the day at work, or else, I’ll bring out the hammer again.