Monday, November 22, 2004

Life would be much easier if we didn't have to make any decisions. Granted, it may be rather boring, but not if say you applied a random number generator to your dilemmas against a decision matrix or something. I suppose that is what those people who live by "what the dice says" do. I read a book once about a serial killer that killed by numbers, like roll a six and off with her head, so perhaps this logic can be taken too far.

Anyway, I mention this because I have hit a wall with my house renovation. If I have to look at one more bloody bathroom showroom or carpet sample or paint colour or tile design, I just may slap someone (and lets face it, that is likely to be Mr R). I really have done nothing to the house for about 6 months because I just cannot face any more decisions. I don't know what sort of handle I want on the laundry cupboard! I don't care if the retaining wall in the landscaping is symetrical! I am just over it.
Which leads me to my latest idea that of course requires another decision, engaging an interior designer. The idea of this makes me cringe because I am usually very confident about what I do and don't like. And I like to think that I am not a person with no idea. And I know this makes me sound like the biggest spoilt brat ever. And man, I just used the word 'engaging'. Seriously, someone please put me out of this ridiculous misery. But I am coming up to some big decisions like a new sofa, and a tv unit and fabric choices and the idea of visiting a thousand furniture shops fills me with dread. And I have no idea about decorating! Are feature walls good or bad? What to do, what to do. If I had the time I'd be fine with shopping for this stuff, but my weekends are precious! Bleeegh, its all horrible.
Ok, enough of my whinging, it's time to get some perspective of where my problems fit on the scale of things that are problems, with 'ten' being having no arms or legs or intelligence or house or friends, and 'one' being the problem of what colour to paint my nails. I s'pose it is only a one so I should shut up now.

I played good samaritan on the weekend and told a woman in the shop where I was browsing that she had her top on inside out. On reflection, it would have been much funnier to just leave her be and follow her around the shop pointing and giggling. I am so good it's well, sickening, and this has led to an epiphany of sorts. From now on I have the ultimate answer to all decisions. I choose...trouble. Watch for how this lasts for about 10 seconds or results in the end of my marriage.


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