HOW much time do you spend brooding about regrets? Well, if you're anything like the average person, then 7,994 hours of your life are swallowed up with pondering what might have been.
Common decisions rued include choosing the wrong career, splitting with a first love and not travelling more when young, according to a new survey. We each spend 110 hours a year on this lamenting and gnashing of teeth.
The poll by KP Nuts (I appreciate this is not the benchmark of a robust scientific study but works adequately for the purposes of these musings) found that often it is the things people didn't do which lead to the most self-reproach, with 79% wishing they took more risks.
Had they done so, 29% believe they would happier, 37% are certain they would be richer and 17% reckon they would be in their dream job.
Ah, shoulda, woulda, coulda. I say this as someone whose brain regularly likes to ping wide awake at 3am to remind me of some random, embarrassing thing I said 10 years ago and then play the greatest hits of other similarly cringe-inducing moments on a loop.
Sure, there are those who deserve the penance of a lifetime spent ruminating on bad decisions. Such as whoever is responsible for Donald Trump's poorly blended foundation/epic fake tan line fail, an unforgettable shade I would imagine is called something like Atomic Tangerine.
Or proponents of the current fad for vagina-themed candles, incense and other scented products of this ilk. I'm looking at you Gwyneth Paltrow, Erykah Badu and anyone shelling out their hard-earned cash to hop aboard this absurd bandwagon.
READ MORE: Susan Swarbrick: Owned by a pet, rude awakenings and plane stupid
But, for most of us, regrets are merely white noise in the grand scheme of things. Far worse is the precious time frittered away as we dwell on that which can't be undone.
Get together with loved ones, cherish moments of solitude, reconnect with old friends, make that leap into the unknown and don't sweat the small stuff. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to take my own advice.
Name game
GET your thinking caps on. The Royal Zoological Society of Scotland is seeking suggestions for the name of a chimpanzee born at Edinburgh Zoo earlier this month.
The new arrival – a critically endangered Western chimpanzee – is the offspring of Heleen, who was rescued from a research laboratory in the Netherlands and brought to Scotland in 2010.
Now, we all have an inkling of how this will pan out. Lest we forget the Boaty McBoatface debacle of 2016 when the Natural Environment Research Council naively asked the public: "What shall we call our fancy new polar research ship?"
Names that evoked bold exploration – Endeavour, Shackleton and Falcon – were all mooted. Boaty McBoatface won by a landslide. Yet, in a crushing blow, it was ruled out in favour of calling the vessel RRS Sir David Attenborough (the rotters).
There have since been copious homages, including calls for a US Air Force bomber to be dubbed Stealthy McStealthface; a Swedish rail operator christening one of its fleet Trainy McTrainface; and a new ferry in Sydney bearing the short-lived moniker Ferry McFerryface.
Not to forget the OG – original gangster – who sparked the trend, the majestic Hooty McOwlface named through an Adopt-a-Bird programme in 2012.
Chimpy McChimpface it is then. Don't say you haven't been warned.
Bad taste brigade
GRAVE news emerges that for the second year running Piers Morgan has topped a Heat magazine poll of secret celebrity crushes. Proving, yet again, that the voting public a) can't be trusted and b) will blow your mind with its incomprehensible taste.
The broadcaster's closest rival was Prince Harry who took second place, with the murderous character Joe Goldberg in the Netflix series You, played by actor Penn Badgley, in third spot.
How did this come to pass? Morgan has a theory (of course he does) that "the entire country is now infested with weak snowflakes and women in particular are now getting drawn to what they see as the antidote to that."
Sorry, I just threw up a little in my own mouth. Truly, this is astounding. If there was a referendum held tomorrow asking "Should Piers Morgan be king?" then I think the Queen would be prudent to start packing up her Tupperware and the Corgis.
READ MORE: Susan Swarbrick: Owned by a pet, rude awakenings and plane stupid
He who shouts the loudest and all that. I can't fathom it. Much as I might try to unpick the nation's skewed psyche, really, there are far easier things to do.
Tune in next time when I attempt to defuse a bomb, cure Coronavirus and prove the existence of Nessie using only a paperclip, cough pastille and the plastic frogman from a cornflakes box.
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