Or, How to Make a Decision and Still Hate Yourself
Decisions, decisions. Always so many decisions. Like a never-ending sea of uncertainty, wrapped in a layer of existential dread.
Take the classic example of the coffee mug. Do you get the red one, the blue one, or the one with the picture of a cat on it? Or do you just stick with plain ol' beige?
And don't even get me started on the intricacies of cat food. Wet food, dry food, or perhaps a nice mix of both? Or maybe, just maybe, you should just feed them a raw egg and call it a day?
But, of course, the real question is: do you choose to make a decision, or do you choose not to make a decision, and therefore, in effect, make the decision to not make a decision, which in turn, becomes the decision to make a different kind of decision, ad infinitum?
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