A very smart woman just explained to me why I have such a hard time deciding what I want for dinner. The root meaning of the word decide is to cut off. When I decide to have the halibut, I am really choosing to cut myself off from lasagna. Who would seriously choose to cut themselves off from lasagna, for any reason?
This problem arises when shopping for shoes, groceries, even when buying a house. With any given choice I could be facing possible paralysis of decision making, just like a child when whisked into a toy store and told to pick something, anything, but just one thing. In this situation I have seen both a nephew and my son walk out of the store empty handed, sanity in tact. They were the smart ones. The rest of us chose Buzz Lightyear or Chutes and Ladders, and soon after were found weeping over our loss of Woody or Parcheesi.
Maybe this happened to many of you on election day in the U.S. Maybe you were in the election booth facing possible paralysis over your decision for a senator, county commissioner, or dare I say, president (I hope you aren’t weeping right now).
Because I write my stories without an outline, crossroads are part of the bargain. I have to make a choice to let John and Maria visit an overpaid marriage therapist in Tuscon, or else have them duel at dusk, winner gets the condo. Do I let Fido loose in a Petco only to crash a dog food pyramid creating a chain reaction of puppy death and destruction, or does he dash for the road and stop traffic, causing his owner utter humiliation, until that is, he meets the love of his life when Fido tinkles on her deflating Michelin?
Presently I am in the undecided category of working on the novel, an article for a local paper, or second breakfasts (for you LOTR fans). I wonder if I choose second breakfasts, will I have to skip first lunch which may just be lasagna?
What are you deciding on?