Indecisive Musing

Well, I took down that post, and then a person who had read it said that maybe I should leave it up ... I dunno. Are you starting to see the indecision? The wishy and the washy that is Sarah?

It makes me wonder why I should all of a sudden feel so awkward about sharing a thought or ten with complete strangers. It's what I've been doing all along anyway, in some form or another. Why sudden panic should sieze me at the thought of people reading (shock!) what I'm writing is unknown.

So here it is. Until I change my mind. Again. Perhaps indecision is part of why I'm frustrated with myself ...

Frustrated with Myself Musing

Do you ever have moments, or days full of moments, when you look at yourself in the mirror and say (to yourself, of course) "what were you thinking?" Do you ever wonder if maybe, just maybe you have a split personality? She doesn't have a different name, and you both like the same things and essentially have the same personality, but if you're going to take the angel/devil thing to a different level, this is maybe what it would look like ... one of you wants to do what you want to do because you want to do it, and the other one wants to do it, too, but knows that the timing is just all wrong, that later will be better, that holding off for now can pay off later. It applies to everything: Food, shopping, sex, entertainment, vacations ... or whatever. If it's something that you know would probably be best left alone for the moment, there's a little voice that's telling you that it's okay to have it now. You want it now, so you should have it now.

And sometimes ... sometimes you give in. You get it now. You eat the entire package of Oreos in one night. You buy the book AND the CD AND the movie ... AND the latte. You allow things in a relationship to go a little (or a lot) further than you had intended. You go on a shopping spree with your rent money.

My nightmare last night consisted of finding myself on a cruise ship, only to remember that the card I'd charged the trip to was my debit card, and there was only enough money left in that account to pay my rent, and I didn't want to go into debt for this trip (for whatever reason, the dream trip cost over $10,000), and I wasn't able to enjoy the vacation for all the worrying about the money.

Real life is a little different. The panic sets in later, and I'm able to enjoy my live-in-the-moment indulgence for a little bit. I have fun. It tastes/smells/looks/sounds good, and I enjoy it. The next day (or week, or whatever), I'm standing in front of that mirror, looking at my reflection, and wondering if I really know the person I'm looking at. Do I really know her? If I did, I feel like I'd understand some of the things that she did, why she did them. I talk to the girl in that reflection, and I ask her what she was thinking. She just shakes her head and looks down, and then we both have to get on with the day, because there's stuff that needs to be done, and only so much time can be spent talking to yourself in the bathroom mirror.

So I'm frustrated with myself. And I'm talking to myself in the bathroom mirror. But don't worry -- I'll work it out tonight with the box of cookies sitting on top of my fridge. And the pint of ice cream in the freezer.