Choices

My high school physics teacher had two outfits. Navy blue pants, light blue short sleeve dress shirt, navy blue tie… and, wait for it… the same thing in brown. He alternated the duds like clockwork. No one was really sure about the laundry factor in this equation, but we were all sure about a few things, namely, our physics. I still know more physics than any English grad student should. When we had Mr. B in sophomore chemistry, we giggled about the fashion statement. By the time we got to physics, we didn’t even notice. We were focused little nerds with our graphing calculators and the mysteries of the universe to deal with. We had no time to worry about Blackwell’s worst dressed list.

I imagine Mr. B’s mornings were pretty calm. There was no element of choice, no indecision, no agony. Who knows, maybe he had 2400 pairs of underwear to choose from, but as for the outer layer, it was already determined. (I really don’t want to know about the underwear situation. Some mysteries should remain mysteries.)

I think I’ve got too many choices. What if by eliminating the number of small, insignificant choices in life, you get access to the really big choices behind the magic door? What if the secret to achieving dreams is pursuing less rather than more?

Two outfits… maybe a tad extreme.

A girl’s gotta have a pink dress (or two or three… ) in the mix somewhere.

Diss: Still hammering out the syllabus.
Health: Changed this from "diet" to try to be more positive. Got back to the gym today after a very long hiatus. Is it sick and wrong that the elliptical machine felt like heaven after sitting on my hiney for all those days?
Organization: I think this has gone the wrong direction this weekend. Must get Christmas decorations put away before Valentine's Day.