Drive
Last Monday, Dr. Sweets asked me about regrets I had in my life. He told me to make a list of all the regrets I had for our next session.
I could have done it for him right then. I had only one: succumbing to faulty logic and betraying my friends in the process.
I told him, but he wouldn't listen to me. I understand fully why Dr. Brennan hates psychology. Dr. Sweets was insistent that I think about it for a week and we would discuss it the next Monday at our next session.
Having read every journal article and reference book of any interest from the institution's library weeks ago, I decided I would do as Dr. Sweets asked and think about it for the week.
I set about this task the only way I knew how – methodically.
Logically, the best time frame to start was at the beginning and work my way through my childhood to present day.
By Friday, I had worked my way through my entire life and not found another single thing that I regretted.
I spent Saturday with a fictional publication entitled "War and Peace" in my lap. I had exhausted the scholarly publications and had selected this book because of its length. I was still certain I would finish it over the weekend.
After nearly a chapter, I found myself distracted and staring out the window watching automobiles travel at high velocities along the highway near my looney bin kingdom.
I couldn't help but feel like I had failed in my assignment from Dr. Sweets. I had never received a failing grade on an assignment before, much less failed to complete the assignment at all.
It seemed to be such a simple task—nothing particularly challenging about it on the surface, but it was proving to be a seemingly insurmountable roadblock for me.
Sunday, I returned back to the same chair with the same book determined to make some headway in the reading and put the nonsense of regrets out of my mind. After all, having regrets was illogical. There was nothing to be done to correct or otherwise eliminate the act which had caused them in the first place.
By mid afternoon, the sun had shifted such that it was reflecting off the cars that passed outside and was flashing in my eyes.
That's when it hit me.
I have only one regret other than falling for that line of crap - drivel - blarney - nonsense - balderdash - twaddle - bull – bunkum – hooey.
I never learned how to drive.
While I believe psychology to be a soft science with little to no empirical value, as I stare out at the passing traffic, I can't help but wonder what Dr. Sweets is going to say about this on Monday.
