Decisions just get harder
I am about to elevate my column by quoting William Shakespeare: "To be or not to be?" There. Feel smart? So do I.
Anyway, the content of this quote is completely irrelevant to my column, but the context of it isn't. Hamlet, in his uttering, is tortured because he can't commit to a decision.
This is the relevance; I too have come to be a person tortured by indecision.
I wonder when this shift took place. I used to be a Donald Trump of resoluteness.
Becoming indecisive
When I was 18 years old, I phoned an Army recruiter from a phone booth in Cleveland and said, "This is Diane Makar. I want to enlist."
At 22, though I was registered for classes at Kent State University, I dropped a letter in the mail to the University of Arizona, based on the recommendation of a friend. By August, I was traveling across the country with my dad, who helped me find an apartment, then waved goodbye.
A year later, I decided I'd met my one true love, and I married him.
We subsequently moved, often on half-a-wing and two prayers, to Cleveland; Los Angeles; Tucson, Ariz.; Houston; Santa Clara, then San Jose, Calif.; back to Tucson; and ultimately Youngstown.
A month ago, I took three trips to Jo-Ann Etc. to pick out drapery material. You would have thought I was selecting the tablecloth for the Queen of England's dining table. After an hour, I narrowed the field to three choices. They were all burgundy; they all had flowers.
I had one in my hand finally, but then, feeling the enormous weight of my decision, left the store empty-handed. I ultimately returned with my husband, and we jointly made the choice after much labored discussion.
Incapable of concluding
That young woman who was so unafraid of making decisions -- wrong or right -- who realized that, no matter how far she fell, it was not that long a distance from her derriere to the deck, can now stand in a video store and barely choose "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" over "Dawn of the Dead."
In planning a summer vacation, I have been online roughly 4,321 hours. Yes, much of this has been to bargain hunt, but even after locating the bargain, I am having trouble pushing the "Buy this vacation" button. My finger hovers over the key, then I open another screen and check another dealer.
What, after all, if I'm wrong? It's $4,000, for heaven's sake! (Certainly this is more weighty than joining the Army for three years, or pulling up stakes and moving across country!)
What has caused this amazing shift from Trump to Hamlet? This gradual melting of my spine?
Change of situation
Well, first of all, the most obvious thing is that children arrived. Decisions that affected only me, and then me and one other adult, suddenly had import for beautiful, little, helpless creatures.
Children also brought about another change. Before they arrived, I was a leader, or at the very least, a co-conspirator. After two became four, I became a negotiator, not a leader. (Is this the destined role of all moms, or is it just me?)
The husband wants to see this movie; the kids want to see that movie. Who cares what I want to see? Let's just keep the peace. The husband wants this for dinner; the kids like that for dinner. I don't even care what I want; what will please everyone else?
The other change is that we had so little to lose back in those egg salad days. Investing three years of your life at 18 is a drop in the bucket. Risking losing everything, when "everything" fits into the back of a VW poptop van, is not much of a risk at all.
And finally, if you are thinking I haven't explained how picking out "Dawn of the Dead" has any deep psychological implication, you're right. I simply suggest to you it's become a bad habit to be indecisive.
Which brings us back to Shakespeare, who wrote: "How use doth breed a habit in a man!"
This leads me to believe I can restore my decisiveness by simply using it. That's what I'm going to do. Or maybe I shouldn't.
murphy@vindy.com