regrets

When I left my last job to be a full-time mom, I wish I had the foresight to offer to buy my work laptop and projector from the company.  I am certain that the projector was tossed in a closet and forgotten.  I know for a fact that the non-tech person who was given the laptop got frustrated trying to open it, jimmied it with something and snapped the latch off the machine.  It wasn’t a fancy laptop.  I used it to create handouts, PowerPoint presentations and grant proposals.  It would be perfect for blogging and writing.  Sometimes, I fantasize of escaping our chaos and going somewhere else to write.  Just one hour without interruptions or diapers or tantrums or laundry or a thousand other things.  I haven’t seen anyone sitting in Starbucks with a spiral notebook and pen in, well, I’ve never seen that.  Although I confess that I did use the projector for family movie nights, I would now like to use it for a project that tickles my brain when I allow myself to dream.  That’s one of the reasons I like to stand and wash dishes by hand instead of using the dishwasher.  When you are up to your elbows in dirty dishes, there’s nothing to do but think.  Usually, it’s grounded in reality, but every so often, it’s dreaming and wishing.  Other times, it’s regrets about missed opportunities, like laptops and projectors.

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