The day of Rest - Imagine it's Sunday

When I was a young and youthful person, I was an efficient decision maker. I would analyse the relevant facts in a logical manner and make an executive decision. On the whole it was usually the right decision. Any errors that I made, didn’t generally have dire consequences.

I am given to understand that it is a very common problem. Which problem? The inability to choose. Whilst it may be a problem for the person trying to make a choice, it is a far more annoying problem, for the person observing the person who is unable to choose. Self, self, self. Theories abound as to why this should be so, and I’m always open to additional theories. Subtle hint! Many people are unaware of how many choices they make, but it only takes a few moments thought to have some inkling of how frequently this occurs. Some clever people might make allusions to 'executive function,' but that far too high brow for me. I prefer more simple examples that are easier to grasp.

For instance, when you awaken in your bed, hopefully in the morning, although not too early, you open your eyes. Already you have made two choices, the first being to wake up, the second being to open your eyes. Now you have to decide if, or when, to leave your bed, and you’ve only been awake less than a nano second? Are you going to be happy or sad? Have you managed to remember or blot out, a reason that might influence either decision? Already you have made a whole slew of decisions and the day has hardly begun.

Whilst this is the curse that my eldest son endures, I wonder how closely we might really be related?

I have already run through all my early morning decisions and hover, on the cusp of the next one. I dither between my choice of available reading matter, which book should I choose? The one to induce brain expansion, or escapism, or humour or the new whodunnit? Too difficult to choose. I move on to paperwork? Which of these tedious chores should I tackle first? Update lists, write shopping list, tackle medical insurance claims, compose letter to school? Too difficult to decide. I debate which household task to manhandle first: sanitize toilet, take out the recycling, cook breakfast or start the laundry? Too tricky to trump. I stand in the middle of the kitchen in a daze awaiting enlightenment.

A thunder of tiny hooves crashes from on high, as all my children descend at 5:30 in the morning.
“I am……..my tummy is…….where….?”
“It is dah Sunday day?”
“Come on Mom, where’s the pancakes, we’re starving?”

That solves that one then. At least I can rely on at least three people to kick my own executive function into gear.