Daddy? Or Chips?

I’ve got a problem.

It’s been apparent for some time but I’ve made excuses for it.

I’m married to a laid back man; No, no, that’s not the problem, though sometimes being so laid back you’re horizontal IS a pain in the backside. I’m sure I’m not easy to live with for a multitude of reasons, but last night I really irritated him. We were in a Mexican restaurant and I just couldn’t decide what to order.

It occurred to me that I have huge problems making decisions. I’m having problems making decisions in my plot and I have problems every meal deciding what to eat. Even when I can work out what to eat I nearly always get neighbour food envy, so I’m clearly making lots of wrong decisions. Today, I tried to work out what I could’ve done differently, so as not to have irritated Husband.

When I googled ‘how to make decisions’ I got 23,700,000 hits in .13 seconds: there must be lots of other people just like me unable to decide anything in their lives. One of the websites told me ‘Making decisions can be intimidating and time-consuming.’ That’s right, I wanted to yell. It’s difficult to choose between the enchilada and the burritos… what’s the difference?

That brought me to the first point on the ‘how to make decisions’ website. Assess what choices you have? Well, I wanted a floppy tortilla, which ruled out the chimichanga, the tacos and the quesadilla, but what about the fajitas? Do I need to worry about them? No, you have to assemble them yourself don’t you? I wanted all my food ready to eat.

Another piece of advice on the website was to collect as much information about the choices as possible. The list of ingredients was pretty much the same: both were served with refried beans and rice. One was two small enchiladas, and the other one was a single burrito; both had guacamole and sour cream on top. What could the difference be apart from the size?

Then the advice suggests that you get the experience that will help you to come to a decision, so I asked Husband: what’s the difference? “I dunno”, he said, “that one’s two small ones and that one’s one big one.” So I went onto the next piece of guidance: make a list of pros and cons for each decision. Well, actually, I think Husband would’ve been quite rightly pissed off at this stage, had I asked him for a pen and a piece of paper.

In the end after a bit of huffing and puffing he chose for me. I felt a bit sick about this, and wondered if I’d lost my appetite by then. The point is, I’ve always been able to make decisions in the past; as a mum I must’ve made thousands … is it like eggs? Do they get old and crappy after a while? Maybe only get a finite number of decisions in your life and then after that you loose your decision making ability?

What ever it is, I really have got to learn to do it.