I generally relish the thought of being in charge of my own destiny. I love decision making- some would say that I often put a little too much thought and energy into even the most minor decisions. Today, however, I am officially sick and tired of it.
It started with a twinge on Sunday. Dave asked, as he asks every night, what we were having for dinner. I realized that not only did I not know, I did not care. Yesterday I didn't really care what we watched on TV or how many games of euchre we played with our dinner guests. This morning I couldn't think of anything to wear so I pretty much put on what I wore yesterday. (It was fairly clean Mom, with new undergarments!)
Is it possible that the little things don't matter to me anymore? Paper or plastic? Boxers or briefs? (Admittedly, I never cared about that one...) Bedtime at 10:30 or 11? A Star is Born with Judy Garland or A Star is Born with Barbara Streisand? They're all fine with me.
I feel a little lost- I figured I would be picky and judgmental for life. I'll give it a week and see if I go back to normal...
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