I hate, hate, hate making decisions. I’d go so far as to say I’m debilitating indecisive. I don’t know why, I guess just because I’m pretty okay with whatever. Or I hate the pressure of making a wrong choice. Or something.
But at this point, I would vow to make decisions about what to eat, what to watch, where to go, what to do, whatever if it meant I could have one moment of clarity with a God-like voice saying, “Kristina, thisschool is where you should go.” Seriously. I’ll never say “I don’t know” or “I don’t care” in that whiny, why-don’t-you-choose voice again. Ever. Ya hear that, manupstairs?
I’ve never been good at decisions, and I’ve never had to make a life-altering one before. Not a single one (going blond was an accident, not a choice). I’ve spent portions–large and small–of every day comparing Emerson and TTU and my possible futures with each. It constantly gets me nowhere. Right when I think TTU won out, Emerson pops up (a free book in the mail, edited by an Emerson grad? Travelocity emails about discount flights to Boston?). Why can’t the required number of people just decline Brown and let me get an offer, that would solve all of my problems. HAH, okay, wishful thinking. But for realz, yo. This shit’s hard. I don’t think any number of pro-and-con lists is going to cut it.