Day 4: What do you sense you’re supposed to do before your life is over?
I’ve never been able to make a simple decision in my life. Ever. It has never happened. Even the easiest and most obvious choices require painstaking contemplation. The hefty weighing of pros and cons and the answering of many important questions such as will this pay out in the end? Will this brand of conditioner really tame the frizz permanently associated with my curls, and will this notebook design truly represent who I am as an individual?
You can see my conundrum.
Nothing is ever black and white. I possess the magic ability to stretch out mere yes or no questions into an eternity of thoughtful internal speculation. All decisions lead to a final conclusion, a single event that is the direct and final outcome of that poor food choice at that late night diner, or those ten extra minutes of sleep that accidentally turned into twenty thereby exhuming the time normally spent gulping down a steaming cup of jet black coffee and then leading to that poorly timed nap in that one class that really seems to have no true purpose, but for some reason it’s necessary and then that jolt awake at the sudden realization that everyone is leaving and what was that lecture about?
For instance, there are many decisions that I make that fall along the same pattern of thought, the most prominent of these being my penchant for procrastination. While I hem and haw over simple choices like which book to read in my free time, I make no hesitation on the decision to procrastinate. The art of procrastination occupies a wide spectrum, ranging from the basic “Oh, I’ll do it right after I do this,” to the chronic “It’s due in two hours, I should probably start.” I almost always fall between the middle to the latter half of the spectrum. This problem never used to be so prevalent, but lately it has increased.
It happens. Those slippery slopes that lead to vans down by the river and lopsided houses with the paint peeling around the trimmings and those inexplicable spots of brown grass on the lawn. Or at least, I imagine they do. That’s why every decision I make needs to be sifted through, precariously and precisely.
Except I fail to do that more often than not.
I love the concept of agonizing over itsy-bitsy elements of every aspect of my life. I am in love with the idea of anal retentively organizing and categorizing my life and my decisions.
That is probably because I live my life as differently from that as possible. The constant hectic chaos that surrounds me is an old friend, and I thoroughly enjoy the rush I get from my scattered tendencies. I just wish that I enjoyed being an organized individual.
Everything would be so much easier- or at least that is how I perceive my life would be. I know that if, by some cosmic miracle, I could manage to attain some level of organization that life would not be all sunshine and rainbows- that some other big personal change would come about and if I could just manage to do that everything would be better. Isn’t that part of the essence of humanity?
I think it comes down to my indecision as to who I am as a sentient human being.
When it comes to deciding on what to do with my life, I choose not to decide. Instead, I bob wherever the current takes me. While this seems to be the most illogical of decisions, it has worked exceedingly well for me in the past. Or it has worked as well as can be expected of any half-assed plan.
So, I conclude that there is no way of knowing just what it is I am supposed to do. This means I will continue to be indecisive, continue to procrastinate, continue to over-analyze and under-analyze, and to day-dream about the way things could be.
Because you never truly know how any decision is going to turn out.
