Instalment Forty Seven

The Anxiety of Choice

Leaving the house always became a big to do. Choice hated making decisions and she became tense and angry when pressed to do so. It was never as simple as doing just one thing. Leaving the house meant a cascade of selections: Clothes? Shoes? Hat? Purse or handbag? Walk, ride or drive? And where to go! Forget about food shopping, far too hard, she’d have to wait until she was almost fainting then head out in a mad dash. Run, grab, too starved to think. As a result most her meals consisted of half a barbeque chook and a Toblerone, an abject lesson as to why you should never shop hungry.

It was too much for Choice, crippling in fact, but so was staying home. She became convinced that there were only so many correct decisions that could be made in each life. What if she ran out? If she ran out she’d be making wrong decisions, wrong hat, wrong movie, wrong man. Life develops one decision at a time and Choice opted out, there were too many options, she decided, while flicking the light switch off and on, unsure if she needed to see what was in the room.