Decisions, decisions, decisions.
How did you wind up where you are right now? At this very moment in time, exactly where you sit? Did you set aside time to read this? Did you drive in the blistering cold, in rush hour traffic to your home office to do other things, then wound up in front of your computer reading these words. Or, were you eating dinner, watching the news, and then propped open your laptop and happened across this site? Regardless of how, or why, you decided this is where you want to be. And this how you want to spend your time.
Pat yourself on the back. Because you are one of the few. One of the few, in the millions of people in this country, that actually made a decision. You actually determined the outcome of your life. You are the master of your domain. Carpe Diem.
As for me. I am continually engaged by the “other half”. The one’s that couldn’t make a decision to save their lives. The one’s that when something happens unexpected, or out-of-the-norm, their world is tossed upside down - like a pineapple cake.
“Were you in this car?”
“Which car?”
“This car. The one I’m pointing to. The one you’re standing next to. The one that has your name on the back window!”
“Yes”
“Are you hurt?”
“Well, I don’t know”.
You don’t know! How can you not know if you are hurt or not? It’s a simple question and your answer should be dependent on whether you are feeling any pain anywhere on your body. Pain, being something that doesn’t feel good. That hurts!
“I think my head hurts, but I’m not sure.”
“Does anything else hurt?”
“I don’t know.”
“How about your chest?”
“Well, I think it hurts. I’m not really sure.”
At this point, I’ve already realized that at this rate we will never get anywhere in this conversation. Kind of like talking to a drunk. It just never makes sense. I know it’s an emergency. And I know that you broke your little Dodge Stratus, the one with tinted windows, the bling bling on the wheels, and the huge Nike emblem on the back window. The one where the stereo costs more than the car itself.
“Okay, how about this. Do you want to go to the hospital?”
“I don’t know.”
Didn’t see that one coming, did you?
“Well, you’re a grown adult and can make your own decisions. Do you, or don’t you, want to go to the hospital?”
“Do you think I should?”
“I can’t answer that for you. You need to decide.”
“No. Yes. No, I don’t think so. Well, maybe I should. Can I call someone?”
“Why?”
“To see if they think I should go to the hospital.”
Make a decision. Make a decision. Make a decision. Sure, when it comes down to choosing a movie or a place to eat, I am usually wishy-washy. But when it comes to black and white, clear-cut decision making, I make up my mind. I’m hurt. Therefore, I need to go to the hospital.
So, you wonder what paramedics and cops really do? They make decisions for people. They call 911. We arrive, and make up there mind.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Uhh, what should I have for dinner?”
Pat yourself on the back. Because you are one of the few. One of the few, in the millions of people in this country, that actually made a decision. You actually determined the outcome of your life. You are the master of your domain. Carpe Diem.
As for me. I am continually engaged by the “other half”. The one’s that couldn’t make a decision to save their lives. The one’s that when something happens unexpected, or out-of-the-norm, their world is tossed upside down - like a pineapple cake.
“Were you in this car?”
“Which car?”
“This car. The one I’m pointing to. The one you’re standing next to. The one that has your name on the back window!”
“Yes”
“Are you hurt?”
“Well, I don’t know”.
You don’t know! How can you not know if you are hurt or not? It’s a simple question and your answer should be dependent on whether you are feeling any pain anywhere on your body. Pain, being something that doesn’t feel good. That hurts!
“I think my head hurts, but I’m not sure.”
“Does anything else hurt?”
“I don’t know.”
“How about your chest?”
“Well, I think it hurts. I’m not really sure.”
At this point, I’ve already realized that at this rate we will never get anywhere in this conversation. Kind of like talking to a drunk. It just never makes sense. I know it’s an emergency. And I know that you broke your little Dodge Stratus, the one with tinted windows, the bling bling on the wheels, and the huge Nike emblem on the back window. The one where the stereo costs more than the car itself.
“Okay, how about this. Do you want to go to the hospital?”
“I don’t know.”
Didn’t see that one coming, did you?
“Well, you’re a grown adult and can make your own decisions. Do you, or don’t you, want to go to the hospital?”
“Do you think I should?”
“I can’t answer that for you. You need to decide.”
“No. Yes. No, I don’t think so. Well, maybe I should. Can I call someone?”
“Why?”
“To see if they think I should go to the hospital.”
Make a decision. Make a decision. Make a decision. Sure, when it comes down to choosing a movie or a place to eat, I am usually wishy-washy. But when it comes to black and white, clear-cut decision making, I make up my mind. I’m hurt. Therefore, I need to go to the hospital.
So, you wonder what paramedics and cops really do? They make decisions for people. They call 911. We arrive, and make up there mind.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Uhh, what should I have for dinner?”
Comments
And I suppose I can almost understand how someone can be so blindly stupid after a car crash. It's a shocking, horrible thing. After mine, all I could think of was "No, I have to be fine, I don't have health insurance." (I'm an artist.) So, that's how I made my decision.
Though I suppose people's pocketbooks do, or should, make a lot of important decisions these days.