Decisions, Decisions

Mondays are the busiest days. Strange in my job that college students are not up to better things than requesting books all weekend. It is a time in their life when they should be out making mistakes, doing things they'll regret later in life but remember fondly as "the good old days" because they are so distant.

Interpolation:
P: Everyone has a blog and wants to believe that they are special. Guess what? We don't need to hear everyone's opinion.
M: (Shaking head in vigorous agreement).
M: (Internally. I am a beautiful and unique snowflake).

Most of what I can remember about the weekend involved attempts at making decisions on the color/lay out of our soon to be home. We went by Benjamin Moore, (it's a paint store. I know. I know. I had no idea either) and looked at paint swaths. (Pretty sure that's the wrong word, but I don't particularly care). We then proceeded to examine fifty shades of green to determine the best one for the wall. And here's what I discovered about myself: I'm a quick decision maker. Engagement ring=two hours. Engagement=After nine months together. What to wear to work in the morning=ten seconds. Note: the above is a bit enhanced by the fact that I wear one pair of jeans to work. One. Picking a paint color for every room in the house. Ten minutes.

Unfortunately, S had other ideas. Examples of why it's good to be a quick decision maker.

Ex. of me on the Titanic.

Lowly crew member: I think we may have ice on the coming up on the starboard side.

M: Queue the violinist and full speed towards it!

I can hear your criticism already. The Titanic smashed into the iceberg and lots of people died. But let's be honest, they were probably going to die at some point anyway. At least with me as captain we get to do it with the decisive sort of dignity that helped General Custer defeat Sitting Bull.



So when I go the paint store, or the grocery store, or to buy a house, I don't waste time thinking about my decision. I think history has shown that the thinkers are not the people who get statues made of them. It's the doers. It's the men/women who walk into a paint store and say with confidence, "I'll take the provenance cream in my bedroom thank you very much" and move on about the business of the day, which might involve getting Cornwallis to surrender or watching a Michigan football game downtown. I'm a decision maker, not some pansy in a paint store.

S: Do you like the mint or the tea green?
M: I have a headache.
S: We've been in here for five minutes.
M: I think I might be done. I'll try and tough it out.

That's right. I toughed it out. Or should I have gone for moonlight yellow? Who came up with Cromwell green? Can I get a job naming paints?

After that we cruised over to the green kitchen store where I picked out our future counter top in about seven minutes.

Ex. of me on the Hindenberg

Lowly crew member: The ship is on fire!

M: All hands on deck! Full speed ahead! (I'd probably say this because of my previous experience captaining the Titanic).

Ironically, another couple was also in the paint store picking out colors for their home.

Woman: Don't you start tuning out already. We're just getting started here.
Man: Don't take that tone with me.
Woman: (Proceeds to call her mother and discuss colors while the man sits idly flipping through colors).
Woman: I wish you were here mom. You have such a good eye for detail.

Ex. of me captaining the Santa Maria

Lowly crew member: Land ahead! (Perhaps I should have used ahoy?)

M: Full speed ahead! I told you idiots we'd find the Orient and here we are! Now build a statue of me!



We have more of a tendency to make love and war. Perhaps the saying should be amended.