After is usually when I think of it–whatever it is. Not just what I wish I’d said, but what I wish I’d done or eaten or chosen or written or mentioned. You name it. It’s not willful and it’s not through a lack of consideration or deliberation. It’s like a thought pattern.
I get it with writing. Only after I hit send can I imagine how the other person will view the essay or story. But for the rest of it, it’s like there’s a little door in my brain that only opens after.