I sat next to Erin in church today. Erin is this pleasant, optimistic, kind girl who just moved to Chicago (where I am on vacation for the extended weekend) on a whim to pursue a job she had found. She was short spoken, but bold, very insightful (as you will see in just a minute), and just an all around sweetheart. She recently returned from her mission and enjoyed me asking the normal, perhaps too intrusive questions from a stranger that I ask to all return missionary women in attempt to understand their decision to serve and what they learned. After Relief Society I bid her farewell, told her it was good to talk with her, and instead of the "you too," I expected she said, "good luck with all those decisions you have to make." Now let me try and explain the strangeness of this comment. We spent our entire conversation talking about her. Really the only thing we said about me was my sabbatical from school (a topic that everyone likes to bring up). Nothing about decisions. As I was picking apart this strange exchange with Nikka I said, "Well, I must just have indecision written on my forehead." Seriously, besides divine inspiration, how else would a stranger know to say that to me?
Whether I deserve it or not (I don't), I seem to have reached the point in my life that everyone worthy of giving any advice in the past 3 years have been referring to when they talk about The Time In Your Life When You Make The Most Important Decisions. It seems like everything I choose to do or not do will dramatically effect my future. Lucky Charms or Raisin Bran? I dunno, let me get on my knees for that one.
Decisions are strange things. For someone like me, who would rather eat string cheese than make decisions (and I would rather die than eat string cheese) it's like a daily mystery of what I am going to do. I've been known to pack an entire suitcase, realize I don't want to wear those outfits anymore, unpack that entire suitcase, and start the process all over again. I mean, we're talking indecisive, man. There's a certain sense of peace that comes from making a decision, a feeling I have only felt twice in my life. Both times I wrote a 5-page entry in my journal describing the feeling, because I didn't want to forget it. In fact, I read those journal pages often in attempt to relive that euphoria. A euphoria close to the feeling of falling in love for the first time, or having a baby (i can imagine), or finding that handbag that you have wanted for months is on sale!
And yet, knowing what it feels like to make a decision, I still find myself at a standstill, sifting through idea after idea of how I should chart my life, praying that Cleo is going to call me in the morning and tell me to avoid this path, or watch out for this person. I suppose most girls my age dream of their wedding day or building their first house. Not me, I dream in week periods, praying that maybe I will be able to pick out an outfit for church without ripping all my hair out.