Choice is powerful. And it can surely go two ways. Too much of it can be both a good and bad thing. Living in such a fortunate country has provided me and the people around me an ample amount of choice in all areas of life. The downer for me is, I can be a bit indecisive and having an array to choose from often puts me in a major spin. For example, going shopping is a pain, as picking out just the right shoe or perfect fitting jacket has consistently proven troublesome. Even considering a meal can be a long drawn out affair in my world. And look how many toothpaste options we have! My goodness, I'm spinning just thinking about it. Make-up and hair products are also a pain in my arse. There's just way too many concoctions claiming to be the ingredients to end the bad of all bad hair days. Unfortunately, my frizz is on a continuum and I'm finally coming to grips with it. Still, piling on the gumpy plaster (brand specific pertaining to the month) is an absolute must.
It's great to have so many options, but truth is, I'm a spoiled mess because of it. Not only with materialistic things, but also with my relationships. I have many, many good friends and a great family - countless people that basically, and in a nutshell, rock my world. I've also not had limited choice when it comes to men. Yes, and as my previous entries will convey, they're difficult to understand at times, but overall, I have had my choice. This sounds awful; borderline conceited even. The goal is not to come off this way, but the purpose of pointing out I have men at my disposal, serves a purpose. Because they're available, it's another area in my life where I have been extremely indecisive. Naturally, if one doesn't meet the criteria on the list, perhaps another one will. The "moving on" mentality is the aftermath of my confidence that I'll have yet another opportunity to cross another off and continue to be on my merry little way.
I can chalk this terrible pattern solely up to choice, but there are layers that have ultimately enabled me to get good at what I do. I would even venture to say that I'm a Professional Pick & Chooser. All of this grand fortune has created an uncontrollable PPC, until now that is....Choosing can be exhausting and maddening, too. Case in point: I've known many bride-to-be's who go through a trillion dresses - leading to the stir crazy bridezilla mode - the minor, miniscule details of each and every dress becoming almost a blur, until finally, the perfect dress, meets the mad-zilla woman. It's comical to think that the previous 1,999,999,999,999 dresses weren't good enough. If I had my way, and I most certainly will at some point, I'll choose a simple classy dress and be perfectly thrilled with the man and the union. Shouldn't this be enough? Why choose through a massive selection of flower arrangements, party favors, assorted colored napkins, etc., to the point of sheer madness, only to come to the same conclusion - happily ever after. One can hope, right? This hopeless romantic believes it is so.
Being as it may, this PPC is controlled at this moment in time. Gratefully, I've learned from my years as a PPC. Selection and choice have certainly been good to me - I categorically know what I don't want (refer to the 'List of new,' blog entry, Sept. 29, 2008). But more importantly, I know what sits before me now. I think this PPC is retiring, or perhaps just taking a mini sabbatical, but as of now, she's decided she's going to sit tight and see if this choice, at the very least, is worth the pit stop.
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