I regret the things I didn't do. They're what spring to mind when I think of regret -- not my screw-ups. I get over those pretty quickly, probably because I'm pretty damn used to them.
But these things I regret:
1. I didn't go to the Hell's Angel party (on Sonny Barger's birthday) in Oakland when I was invited. Ron was my next door neighbor when I lived in the treehouse/shack in East Oakland. He was a Vietnam vet with pretty bad PTSD. He made throwing stars out of twelve inch saw blades, and in the wee hours, they'd thwack into the side of the garage to which my lean-to was attached. He was nice to me, though. And I knew, as I was saying "No, thank you," that I would regret it someday. I do.
2. I regret not feeding our dog Harriet more treats before she died. We were so careful because of her kidney disease. We wanted her to live forever (and she almost did -- she died every morning, we thought -- stiff, cold -- sometimes we'd find her lying there with eyes half-open. No signs of breath. We'd poke her for a while and she'd snorffle her way back to life). But there, when we knew it was the end, I regret not sneaking her some chicken bones. She loved nothing more.
3. I regret not finishing a book in time for my mother to read it.
4. I regret not telling a boy I loved that I truly loved him.
5. I do NOT regret thinking about Harriet while eating Ben'n'Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream today. Because I thought of her, I let my cat Digit lick my spoon when I was done. Okay, I might have let him stick his whole head in the empty tub. It made him happy. And that's the whole point, isn't it?