Jen's Column / Regrets

I was supposed to be working last night. But instead, I found myself surfing the Internet and reading an interview with actor Rob Lowe. I’m not a particularly big Rob Lowe fan — but I am excellent at stalling. And Mr. Lowe is as good a diversion as any.

In the interview, Lowe was quoted as saying, “I regret nothing. I wouldn’t be where I am today without my mistakes.”

I’ve read this schtick before. I’m pretty sure Britney Spears said she had no regrets in the same interview that she said then-husband Kevin Federline was “awesome.”

And I just have to say, “Really? No regrets? Zero? Zip? Nada?”

I find this hard to believe. I mean, if it’s true, then, well, good for them. It must feel great to be happy with every decision you’ve ever made in your entire life.

I am not one of these people.

Today alone, I regretted not setting the timer for the cookies I threw in the oven (and forgot), not buying another jug of milk before dinner, and not starting this column earlier.

I regret every day I haven’t flossed my teeth each time I sit down in Dr. Calcagno’s dentist chair. I regret not going on a single run the week before my last Running Room 10k Clinic. I regret losing Jen-from-Silver-Lake-Park’s phone number, because she seemed really nice and it would’ve been fun to get together.

I regret every time I “ran out of time” and didn’t see my grandparents when visiting my hometown. I regret not asking my grandfather to teach me more Norwegian before he died, and I regret not asking my grandmother to show me how to make lefse before she died.

I regret every time I’ve raised my voice at my kids. I regret every time I’ve hollered, “One more minute!” — and then didn’t come up from my home office for half an hour. I regret every bedtime there wasn’t time to read a book.

I regret wearing my Country Kitchen waitress smock and gravy-smeared blue knit pants when asking out that boy at the gas station when I was 18. (Really. What was I thinking?)

Of course, there are decisions I don’t regret, too.

I don’t regret studying literature and writing in college, even though everyone said, “Seriously? What will you do with an English degree?”

I don’t regret passing up the all-expense-paid business trip to Australia the Halloween my son dressed as Buzz Lightyear and I dressed as Woody — because I was pretty sure he’d never request matching costumes again.

I never regret ditching my to-do list for a girls’ night out — even if it means I’m up until 3 a.m. finishing an article on septoplasty.

Most importantly, I don’t regret the Big Ones: Getting married. Having children. Moving to Rochester. Quitting my “real job” to become a freelance writer.

I expect I’ll always have some regrets — many, if the past is any indicator. And you know what? Thank goodness. It’s because I regret my mistakes that I’m trying not to repeat them. It’s because I regret my mistakes that I’m learning something from them. I’m flossing more. I’m running between 10k practices. I’m reading to my kids every night.

In fact, I’d have to say I have a sense of peace about the mistakes I’ve made. Well, with the exception of the Country Kitchen smock/knit pants/“do-you-want-to-go-out-sometime?” combo. That one, my friends, will always be a cringe-worthy memory.