I’m fickle. This is really no surprise to anyone who knows me personally. I mean… I am really fickle. I am so fickle that even the most seemingly mundane decisions in life can present me with almost insurmountable choices.
Let’s just take this blog entry, for instance. What you wouldn’t know is that I went through about 5 different titles, 10 different moods, and who knows how many categories before deciding on what you are reading. The only thing certain was that I am listening to ABBA currently. But that was easy, I just had to check Itunes.
My friend Jaclyn has put up with years of hearing me say: “Sure, I’ll go to the store with you…but, remember, all plans are subject to change until further notice!” Now, I realize that she was just wanting me to come to the grocery store with her; but, you know, things can change. What if I decide that I don’t want to go to the store–halfway to the store? Then what? I should just let her know in advance that I might change my mind and she would have to bring me back home. I’m just trying to be polite.
And, I have always been this way. When I was in third grade, we were given the assignment of writing a letter to Santa Claus. I was still sitting at my desk when it was time for recess. All I had written was, “Dear Santa, I want…” What was I supposed to write next? This was a life-altering decision. Did I want that old desk or the blue typewriter?
(please refer to my previous blog entry, “I’m Special”, for an explanation of why a third grader would want either.)
I’m not sure why I am so tormented by making decisions. I am jealous of those people who can say that they know what they want and then they go for it. But, that is not the way I am wired. I will probably spend my whole life trying to decide if I want Italian food for dinner or possibly Japanese…you know, Thai kind of sounds good…
p.s. I got the old desk for Christmas. But, luckily, the blue typewriter arrived for my birthday two months later.