To whom it may concern, or not concern, but if you’re not concerned, can you pass it to the concerned?: (maybe I should have ended it at the question mark?)
I have a hard time making decisions. Not always, I mean, I’m rather decisive when it comes to eating dinner because I’ve been able to pare it down to two different meals – either peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or ham and cheese on rye. Sometimes, I have to trash both of those for a lobster roll or philly cheesesteak. Other days, I scrap all four because I only have rotting lettuce and a slice of Kraft American Cheese Singles stuck to the bottom of my fride. I guess it just depends on the day, unless it’s Saturday because on Saturday, I like to wash my car but not every Saturday, mostly because I have a hard time deciding if it’s really worth it. I like having a clean car, but sometimes, I like my friends to think that I am too busy to clean my car, so then I don’t wash it. This Saturday, I will wash my car unless I decide not to because I have a manicure appointment. I may go with a pedi.
Decisions are hard for me because I live in America and I have lots of choices. I shouldn’t brag like that, but I do live in America and we are lucky people. Most of us, not all of us. For example, some of us get to live in grand houses with waterfalls, while some of us only get to have duplexed condos. Some of us get to wear Christian Louboutin Bianca Almond Toe Platform heels, while others can only walk around in a Fergie women’s sandal…..in camel. On one hand, it’s great that you get to have 12 choices of cheese for your one pound burger, on the other hand, it’s sad that people are being stabbed with shanks made from toothbrushes in homeless shelters. Americans are so creative.
This struggle about not making decisions is killing me. Not “killing me” literally, as you can see by the fact that I’m writing this letter, but it is making my life somewhat difficult because I can’t make a decisions. Right now, I can’t decide whether I should go outside and grab lunch. Is it too late for lunch or is it that I’m just being European? I don’t know, but if I get lunch any later, then I will spoil my dinner. But so what if I don’t have lunch now? I can spare the calories. But, if I’m trying to spare calories, a walk to pick up a sandwich might help me accomplish that goal. If not, then I’ll just eat this stale bag of Fritos and this flat 3 day old pop sitting on my desk.
Please help. Or don’t. I don’t know what kind of time you have. I guess you probably have some time to read this or if you don’t have time then don’t read it. I hope you have a great day, or you don’t have to. Who needs that kind of social pressure?
Sincerely or Be Well or Thank You for Your Time in Advance or Goodbye,
Me
This was just manic enough to amuse me because it sounded like my own internal dialogue.