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Click link below picture

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Early one morning a couple of months ago, as I was rushing around trying to get my act together in time to catch a train to New York, I filled a thermos with coffee, reached into the fridge, grabbed an unopened half-gallon of milk — one of those fancy, bottled-in-glass-like-the-good-old-days kinds — and promptly dropped the entire thing on the kitchen floor.

Here’s what happened next. The glass shattered upward and outward, in spectacular, slow-motion-film-worthy fashion; I later found shards in the cat’s dish, the salad bowl, and the blender, two shelves up. The half-gallon of milk set about demonstrating some principle of physics involving volume and surface area, or maybe some principle of religion involving loaves and fishes. Either way, in under three seconds, vast, improbable quantities of it were everywhere: soaking one leg of my jeans, running in lewd streams down the oven, flowing through a gap under a closed door and into the next room. As I stood there missing my train, I had a flash of insight. The reason we are instructed not to cry over spilled milk is that, if you spill enough of it, crying (or its adult analog: cursing) is the only natural response.

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.Click link below for Ted Video:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/11/30/kathryn-schulz-on-regret_n_1120765.html

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