Originally published by The Clifton Courier, September 9, 2020

I usually have a hard time making decisions. 

When you’re as gifted with overthinking (which, just to be clear, is pretty much the opposite of thinking a lot of smart, rational thoughts but is, rather, thinking a lot of low-quality, irrational thoughts) as me, you become aware of all the possible consequences of the choice you make.

I mean, that’s how you’re supposed to make a decision. You consider the likely outcomes that will arise from choosing Option A or Option B, weigh them up, select one option and then move on with your life.

But, for far too many decisions, I’m unable to follow those steps. The steps usually go: consider the likely outcomes of Option A and Option B, then consider the 14 other different consequences that I will endure as a result of the chain of events set off by choosing Option A or Option B, then consider how much I could possibly regret choosing Option A knowing I could have went with Option B, then weigh up the regret factor if I chose Option B over Option A, then delve into an ethical dilemma about what I could live with, then try to work out what my instincts are telling me, then consider whether I’m attuned enough to my instincts, then fret about how long I’ve taken to decide, panic and then, finally, blurt out an option.

It makes it very difficult to be around me sometimes, particularly when I have to make monumental decisions such as deciding what to order at a café. 

However, there are times when making a decision is easy. 

An example of this is when you’re faced with an alternate drop situation and the options are fish or a big hunk of steak. 

Obviously I’d go for steak.

However, this was an alternative drop situation at a wedding where I knew very few people. My friend was placed across from me at the end of the table and as soon as we sat down, we began eyeing off the menu. 

My friend is no fool. She wanted the steak too. So there was no hope of striking deal with her. 

When the other two people took their seats, the conversation obviously turned to the menu. The person seated next to my friend wanted the steak. The person seated next to me said he wasn’t fussed. 

But I assumed he was being polite.

I don’t know what kind of person can go through life with that kind nonchalance. No one is so easy going as to not have an opinion about which alternate drop meal they’d prefer. The thought of someone not letting something like that impact their day is very difficult to understand. 

I assumed he wanted the steak too.  

And so my best hope was to hope the alternate drop gods would smile down upon me. 

When the mains came out, the bloke next to me happened to be away from the table.

And, sure enough, the steak was placed in front of his empty seat and the fish went in front of me. Without thinking, I swapped the plates over, cackling madly with my friend and our new friend sitting next to her.

But then, the over thinking set in.

Option A was eating the steak and pretending nothing happened. Option B was swapping the plates back over. The consequences of Option A was a delicious meal followed by a night of guilt and another notch in the “bad person” tally I assume is being added to by some kind of cosmic accountant who will determine my fate in the afterlife. Also, there was the potential I’d create a lifelong enemy and this man works in the same industry as me, so that could negatively impact my career. What if he carried out career sabotage as revenge? What if he rose in the ranks to a position of supreme power and was on a hiring committee I found myself in front of in years or decades to come? Was the steak THAT good? And, leaving vengeance aside, what if I spoiled his night. Could I live with that? Option B, however meant having a nice but less steak-y dinner and then moving on with my life. 

So, in the end, I swapped the plates back. 

My friend and the guy sitting next to her made over-the-top gestures about how good their steaks were and that definitely stung but, in the end, I know I made the right choice. 

Maybe I’m making progress?