Making decisions

Sometimes decision making sucks.  Like when you're in the drive-thru at McDonalds and you feel torn between the chicken nuggets and the double cheeseburger, not wanting to choose the wrong meal for fear that you will regret your food decision the rest of the afternoon, then realizing you're eating at McDonalds for goodness sake and will probably regret the decision anyway......yea, those moments can be extremely anxiety driven.

As we get older, making decisions both big and small just becomes part of life.  All those things our parents used to handle for us suddenly become our responsibility, and it's almost like someone lifts up a curtain and exposes all the items of life we used to never give a second thought to, then tells us to figure it all out.  Stat.  

I feel like I'm getting better with my decision making.  I am usually so wishy washy, so middle of the road, so very willing to do what the group majority would like to do that I rarely decide anything definite on my own.  But some days I just don't feel like going through the whole song and dance and my decisiveness shines through.  I don't even give myself the option to say "I don't care" and instead commit myself to the choice that stands out as being the best.  Strangely enough, I usually only become this decisive when under pressure, or when I'm feeling stressed out.  I'm sure that's a horrible trend, but I really don't feel like speculating on that little nugget. 

But here's the thing.  Some days......I just want to be told what to do.  When my husband tells me what to do I make a big show of being offended and make a point to tell him that I am my own person, I decide what I do and don't do, blah, blah, blah.  I guess it's my part of the feminist movement.  But honestly, some days I just flat out don't care.  Decision making can be such a drain on my mental energy, that some days I don't want to sit and contemplate, review the information, weigh the pros and cons.  I just want to have an action list in front of me with no need to speculate on anything, and just get stuff freaking done.  Some days I just don't have it in me to be a leader, to keep track of what needs to be done and by when.  Some days I just need to be told and then subsequently move about like a mindless robot because that's literally all I have the capacity for.  

I think this is one of those fun little facts about adulthood that nobody ever really comes right out and tells you, they just let you slowly come to the realization on your own.  For some of us, making decisions does not come easy.  And I know for me it will likely be a lifelong learning process.  Let's just hope there's a grading curve. 

Real clothes vs. fake clothes

I love shopping.  And while I don't do it as often as I would like, I get such a high off of purchasing new clothes.  It's so inspiring, the act of updating ones wardrobe.  And then comes the fun of mix and matching outfits, experimenting with new styles and trends, then growing bored and doing the whole thing all over again.

Yes, I love clothes, shoes, and dressing to the nines, but sometimes what I love even more is not getting dressed.  Well, that's not technically the right way to phrase that sentiment.  I love getting dressed, just not in what are considered by most to be "real clothes."  To me, real clothes are the ones I would wear to work, or out to dinner, or to an event.  You know, socially acceptable, slightly hip, and carefully coordinated.  Fake clothes, on the other hands, are the ones that more often than not bring me the most comfort and joy.  These would be my beloved sweat pants, yoga pants, t-shirts, and workout gear.  These are the sweatshirts and Under Armour sleeves, and one of my most favorite items, the fuzzy warm slipper socks.  It is impossible to have too many pairs of them.

Obviously I get dressed in real clothes for work, although Friday is usually a wild card.  But within 15 minutes of walking inside the house at the end of the work day, I'm dressed down and have traded my form fitting pants for something with an elastic waist band.  I will rarely, rarely, RARELY stay in real clothes if I'm just going to be lounging around the house.  This rule is heavily enforced on the weekends, which at time I know drives my husband crazy.  He comes from a family that believes in getting dressed for the day, even if there's nothing on the agenda aside from doing things around the house.  Me on the other hand, if I know I'm not going anywhere I keep the sweatpants on.  All.  Day.  Long.  It just makes sense, doesn't it?  I like to think that this doesn't make me lazy, just practical 

I feel like a walking contradiction most of the time, because I do enjoy dressing up and going places, and yet sometimes my favorite part of the evening is getting home and throwing on the first oversized t-shirt I can find.  I don't pretend to know why this is the case, it just is what it is.

A cute dress and a killer pair of heels can do wonders for upping my confidence, and my overall feeling of awesomeness.  But sometimes I feel just as if not more amazing in my running shoes and Nike Dri-Fit t-shirt.  What can I say.....variety is the spice of life.     

My first love

In the spirit of Valentine's Day, I thought I would reminisce for a minute about my first love.  While I guess I technically can't confirm that books and reading are my very first love, they have definitely been the most long lasting.  

I remember when it was considered sort of uncool to enjoy reading, but this stigma never stopped me from taking a book with me every place I went.  As a kid, going to the library was literally the highlight of my day, and from the moment I walked in and saw all the books lining the shelves, just waiting to be checked out and read through one by one, I felt overcome with excitement and an eagerness to just sit down and read.  MUST.  READ.  ALL.  THE.  BOOKS.  This was my state of mind almost all the time. 

So yea.  I love reading.  And I have so much respect for the writers out there who spin these glorious stories, who can use words to create such lasting experiences for generations of readers that they remember them their entire lives.  I remember so many books from my childhood, books that I read or that were read to me that will never escape from my memory.  I remember the first time I read a book by Stephen King, being absolutely and utterly amazed by the magnitude of the story, and knowing that I had crossed over into a whole new territory of reading. 

One of my favorite things about the joy of reading is that the experience is never one and done.  I still come across books that challenge me, that amaze me.  I love that there are still stories out there that I have yet to discover, that can alter my way of thinking about certain topics.  I love that a really good book will stay with me for days and days.....that I actually miss the characters and yearn to return to the story, to desire a continuation of some kind.  This is the telltale sign of a fantastic book, and the fact that I can still experience this after numerous years and countless books proves that this is a lifelong occurrence......as long as you have the right book. 

Yes, reading is something that I never lost my desire for.  I still don't leave the house without a book or my Kindle, and I seldom go a day without finishing at least one chapter before bedtime.  I don't know if all this reading has helped to make me a better writer, but I like to think it has helped make me a better thinker, a more vivid dreamer, and more inclined to explore the questions and ideas that fascinate and perplex me.  Whenever I develop an interest in something, my first inclination is to find a book about it.  Whenever I find out a movie I've just seen is based on a true story, I have a strong urge to find the book it was based on.  Books, to me, are priceless.  And as much as I love the convenience of my Kindle, turning the pages of a real book is one of the most satisfying feelings in the world. 

I will celebrate Valentine's Day with my husband and my two adorable beagles.  We will take an evening walk through the park, come home and barbeque steaks, drink some wine, and cuddle on the couch watching TV for most of the night.  And during the commercial breaks?  I'll be flipping through the pages of one of the three books I'm currently reading.  Just me, Dean, the beagles.....and a book.  Nothing like spending Valentine's Day with all the ones you love. 

Stop the spinning

Remember being a little kid, and playing the spinning game?  Maybe it wasn't really much of a game, but I always used to get a thrill out of it.  The rules were simple.  You spin around as fast as you can for as long as you can and try not to end up on the floor.  The whole spinning thing itself was thrilling because you would start out slow, gradually gaining speed, and before long you could barely control how fast you were going, in fact it was often difficult for your feet to keep up with the rest of your body.  As a kid, this was entertainment.  As an adult, this is nauseating. 

I am absolutely a control freak, and I have a really hard time relying on others to get things done as opposed to just doing them myself.  This also means I'm not the most patient person in the world.  In fact the waiting game drives me to the brink of insanity. Literally.  Insanity. 

Right now I feel like I am at the beginning of the spinning game.  Things are starting out slow and while I'm trying to get ahead with various projects, I am also playing the waiting game which (to my ultimate frustration) I'm afraid is going to ultimately destroy me.  Pretty soon I know I'm going to be smack dab in the middle of the spins....where the speed keeps increasing and I'm trying desperately to keep up.  I'm also afraid that I won't be able to keep up, and will end up flat on my face. 

How did you like that analogy?

Because of my well known history to over think and over analyze, I'm hoping that I'll get my act together soon and feel a bit more in control (there's that word again....)  Something is just off right now and I can't seem to stop myself from stressing out and worrying about every little thing.  Normally I can take this stuff in stride, with confidence and a more or less positive attitude, but these past few weeks have been unnecessarily rough, and I feel like I've had a permanent knot in my stomach, overly exhausted from worry. 

I realize this is all a bit vague, and for those who crave details I'm sorry I'm not disclosing them.  Rest assured that story is not juicy, or even very interesting.  Basically it all comes back to work, and we know how much fun it is to listen to someone whine about their job, which is why I'm not going down that road.  

So yes, work is the short answer to the reason I'm feeling this way, but underneath I think there's more.  Yes, there are things on the surface that are causing me to feel this lack of control and constant worry, but something tells me there are things under the surface that could be contributing as well.  I just hope I'm able to get everything resolved before the spinning really starts.