I wouldn’t go so far as to say I suck at decision-making, but I can tell you that I have been struggling to buy a new rug for the entry of my home for over a year now. “Struggle” is the wrong word. Dabbling with. That’s probably more accurate.
The rugs I’m considering are not very expensive because I have a dog and dogs barf. Mostly on rugs for some reason. Harlow somehow understands, instinctively, that barfing on a rug where it won’t splash if preferable (to her) than on hardwood, where it’s easier to clean. So, I’ve been stalling with the rug because I’m cheap and my dog barfs.
I’m also stalling because I am perpetually standing at the intersection of Indecisive Street, Fear of Buyer’s Remorse Rd., and Noncommittal Avenue.
Slippers. Take my slippers. A year ago I decided to invest in some good, warm, long-lasting slippers. I did research, I asked for people’s opinions on FB, I read online reviews, I toiled over brands and styles and options. $80 was a lot to spend on slippers, after all. They arrived in the mail and I tried them on. They were a bit snug, and I stressed over this – would they loosen up? Should I buy one size bigger? I went back and forth about this, my boyfriend at the time listening to my concerns. I finally decided I’d keep them, and made him remove the tags for me, as if it was a cliff-jumping I just couldn’t handle. He held the scissors suspended over the plastic tag “You’re sure?!”
“Yes” I answered as I squiggled on my feet, “Do it!”
I love those slippers. Good investment.
The act of committing to material objects has always been a challenge for me. I remember as a kid our step-grandmother and grandfather would give my brother and me money for our birthdays. I’d take my $25 to the toy store, and I would agonize over which My Little Pony or My Little Pony accessory I should invest in. (looking back, the MLP obsession was a bit of an enigma. They were really the only “girly” stuff I possessed. I was not a Barbie fan or into doing my hair or playing with dolls -although I did have them, and a coveted Cabbage Patch Doll. Soccer, nailing stuff together, my Huffy bike, getting dirty – that’s really what I was all about.)
I’m not kidding when I say I weighed the options carefully; Did I see a boy pony I liked? Did I have any at home already and if so, what color were they because I was not going to buy a second pony of the same color. A pegasus? Well, there’s a yellow one and a pink one and I have a purple one at home which is close to the color pink so I should get the yellow one because it’s farther away from purple than pink is. There’s a baby pony nursery I could get, but there’s also a salon. I like babies and I think I’d play with that one more…
and on and on and on.
My mother would listen to my logic and help me hash it all out with complete earnestness. Like she does when I send her links to rugs and ask for her opinion. She was a saint and continues to be so.
Years ago in an effort to help clear my parents attic, I inventoried my collection. Some of it I sold, some of it I kept. I toiled over the decision of who goes and who stays just as much as I toiled over which ones would go home with me from the store!
Some things never change, but I did buy that rug today!
Behold, a sample of my collection…