A friend told me the other day to stop overthinking.
“Bah ha ha ha!”
That’s like telling the pope not to get on his knees, my daughter to stop craving sweets, or a teenage boy not to think about sex.
I’ve always wanted to be one of those people who didn’t need a second longer with a menu. The truth is, I don’t even read the whole menu because I get so overwhelmed. I go to the salads section, where I only have to choose between five items. And I hope that it comes with dressing, because that decision could involve up to 10 candidates.
Decisions have always pained me. Because the inability to make them is a symptom of depression, which I’ve had my whole life.
I once nearly crumpled into a ball trying to choose toilet paper in the supermarket. I’m not kidding.
Ha! Sam, that’s great!
haha! yer 🙂
I once stood forever trying to decide which brand of kettlecorn popcorn to buy my son because the store was out of the usual brand that I buy. My husband kindly said, “That popcorn really kicked your behind, didn’t it?”
Funny, Kim!