Serious conversation with my daughters:
Me: This is an impossible decision!
Them: You can do it. We have faith in you
Me: (verge of tears) aww, guys? But you shouldn’t. I mean, it’s a life or death situation! How can they
expect someone fragile like me to decide this?
Them: Well, it’s either that or life behind bars, Mum.
Me: Those are terrible options!
Them: (Quietly. Carefully.) You know that it will all be okay in the end…
Me: I don’t know that. If I knew, it wouldn’t be such a hard decision.
Them: (waiting, faces grave…) Well?
Me: Fine. The Good Wife tonight. We’ll watch Grey’s Anatomy tomorrow.
So you see. It's a real problem.
Yesterday, I couldn’t decide if I wanted a handful of Goldfish Fudge cookies or Goldfish Vanilla Cupcake cookies. You would think that the company didn’t think it through when attaching the word “Goldfish” to something that is supposed to be sweet and delicious…that maybe it would be a turn-off. You would be wrong. They could call them smelly salmon bites and I still would probably eat them (tentatively at first, because…salmon) (but then, um…yeah?! Because…cookies). I had both. I mean, it would be like choosing a favourite child.
It’s not just unimportant little things. It’s unimportant slightly bigger things too. Like boots. I love boots, but I can never decide which ones to wear. The block heel? The stiletto heel? Platform? The knee-height boot? The ankle-boot? The cowboy boot? As a result I own all of them…but all in black. Deciding just the height and heel was already enough to blow a fuse in my brain.
Wait. The cowboy boots are not black. Although I’ve never been a cowboy, I stood next to a cow once. The overall atmosphere was really much more of a “tan” feel. Anyway, despite my love for boots, I’m from that place up north with the red Maple leaf on its flag - we get a fair bit of winter around here. Many months of the year, the whole boot debacle is put to rest in favour of winter boots. Ugly, functional, necessary.
Me deciding what to wear really deserves its own blog post. However, if I did that, I’d be forced to be made aware of just how many hours of my life were wasted on, for example, just deciding pants alone. Dressy? Casual? Boot-cut? Skinny? Boyfriend? Capri? Medium rise? Low-rise? Pockets? Welt pockets? Yoga?
In the number of hours over a lifetime that I’ve wasted on this decision, I could have...worked for, risen through the ranks of, become CEO at, successfully ran for years, retired from, and lived comfortably on…the earnings of a company that makes black pants.
I do realize there may be more important decisions in life (I do! Why do you looked worried?). Career, marriage, kids, a house, a car, paying for cable or just using Netflix...they are all decisions that can be avoided, you just need to be strategic. Playing dumb, putting things off, hiding behind couches and/or curtains – all good plans if executed correctly. (except for Netflix. If you can get twenty back-to-back “free trials” that’s something you should really decide).
It’s best to just ignore the big ones until life makes the decision for you. Few people know this. If you wait long enough, many of these important life decisions become a moot point. (but don’t go around saying “moot point”. It will highlight you being at the age of people who say moot point). And they’re not totally moot. You can still have kids at 45. Embark on a new career at 50. Get married at 60. Learn to drive at 70 or 80…wait. Okay, listen. If you are really a senior senior citizen? Then please don’t. I’ll just drive you myself. No offense, but you guys sometimes have trouble with the concept of an advanced green light. And reaching the speed limit.
If you are at moot point age, you have often made your peace with it all. You’ve had a few years with regrets and now regrets are your friends. You pat them fondly on their little heads, aww regrets. (gazing off...) I've had a few...
I’ve recently figured out the best way to make decisions is to go with my gut. I kind of wish I had known this all along, but I kept getting my gut confused with my brain. My brain is so pushy with its logic and unwavering conviction that two plus two equals four. No wiggle room. Too overthinky. All that logic sometimes just confuses things when deep down you just know.
Not a foolproof plan, though. I just knew to go with the Ugg boots today and it ended up being slushy out there. Wet socks! I felt hopelessly depressed. I mean, if I can’t trust my gut, then…???
Oh...hang on now. I caught sight of my reflection in a store window. The Uggs were perfect. Taking it back. The gut is always right.