Thursday, December 3, 2009

For those decisions that involve more than what’s for breakfast, or which pair of socks you’re going to wear for the day, there’s a real chance of second-guessing yourself. You may go to bed resolved, your mind set on a particular course of action, and then awaken to a morning where all your carefully constructed reasons have disappeared. The convictions you were so sure about, the plan you were certain would hold water in any storm, gone.

You may at this moment be wondering where this is heading. Am I going to shop for, like, coffins or something this weekend, and who died? Did the coffin salesman himself croak? I don’t believe so, at least I hope not, and the point here is more to share the overthinking that can extend its neurotic grip on me. Now, I obviously don’t view it as overthinking when I’m in the thick of it, but I’ll be the first to admit to such after the fact.

This ritual of tracing how my choices may change overnight thankfully doesn’t happen every day. It’s more for the big-ticket items, like hunting for my house or this job. A few weeks ago, I told you about my search for a dog. The place, the date, the method. And wouldn’t you know it, this decision looks to be closer to the big stuff than, say, choosing between a burrito and a sandwich for lunch tomorrow. So what changed between the last time we spoke and tonight?

Nothing, surprisingly. I’m making my second trip to the shelter on Sunday. The last time I visited, I mistakenly left with one of their pencils, which will return to its rightful owners and–perhaps!–be traded for something much, much better.