When indecision rules your life, decisions usually have to be made on the spur of the moment. Otherwise what do you do? Nothing, I guess. Even the decision not to make a decision has to be made at some point, or the whole universe implodes. I think. I’m not completely sure about that last part, but I do know how it affects my life.

Today, for example, I left the house on my morning errand run with the full intention of taking time I didn’t have to do something I needed to do. After going to the post office, I was going to slip over to the mall to get a haircut. About halfway to the post office I changed my mind. It was for the best, really, because (a) I didn’t have time, and (2) I was going to lose an hour this afternoon picking D.J. up from school.

Just as I got to the post office, I heard a siren. A fire engine went roaring by in the direction I’d have to go to get home. So instead of going directly home I went the other way, toward the mall, and got a haircut. I’m so glad I didn’t have to make this decision for myself, although I’d like to take the credit when something turns out so well. Not just a good haircut, but no waiting. For once, they were waiting for me.

This is a little like the decision I don’t make every weekend. I start out intending to work on Saturday, and then I “decide” I can put it off until Sunday. On Sunday, I decide it isn’t that important and might as well wait until Monday. This is the kind of scrambled decision making (or non-making) that leaves me gasping by Monday afternoon, snapping at people who don’t deserve it.

But when there’s a decision to be made, you can count on me not to make it, especially if circumstances make it for me.

So anyway, I did pick up D.J. from school today, and all the way home he told me the most convoluted story about dogs and cats. But at least he warned me ahead of time that it wasn’t funny. He likes to be funny, but he hates to be laughed at when he’s not trying to be funny. This is the kind of thing you have to know when you spend time with a six-year-old.

By taking him home, I also got to spend a precious few minutes reading the big dinosaur book to Aiden. Luckily, he turns about ten pages at a time, so it doesn’t take very long to get through the book. And I got a glimpse of the beautiful princess Kylie, who though she is thirteen days old has never laid eyes on her Uncle Mike. Mostly because her eyes are always closed when I see her. (So obviously, I got my hair cut for nothing.)

Alas, I had to leave before Dakota got home on the bus. He gets there a little later than I thought, but next time I’ll try to plan my time so that I can wait for him. He’s one who doesn’t mind being laughed at, but if he’s singing a song, you’d better not try to sing along with him. This apparently is some kind of insult, and he’s called me on it more than once. Sooner or later I’ll get the message.