By Karen Anderson, Club Humorist
Decisions, decisions. Or is it “Decisions, decisions, decisions?” We’re having trouble making up our minds around here.
I never thought of myself as someone who has trouble making decisions. But that’s just because I cunningly disguise my decision-making process as “research.” I have a folder as thick as the A Game of Thrones book, filled not with fantastical mayhem but with spec sheets for microwave ovens.
After I amass encyclopedic knowledge of every microwave currently on the market that will fit our kitchen shelves, I reframe the problem: How could the kitchen shelving be redesigned to accommodate a slighter wider, slightly taller, or slightly deeper microwave? Then, I “research” the slighter wider, slightly taller, and slightly deeper microwaves. I’ve been known to create spreadsheets, and even relational databases, to keep track of it all.
Of course, I cross-reference the entire list against ratings from reputable consumer publications. Finally, I consult the one-star reviews on Amazon, in case there is some hidden flaw in an appliance, and because they are hilarious (“This is the worst microwave in the world because my boyfriend microwaved a tuna sandwich in it and forgot to take it out for a week”).
By the time I reach my well-informed decision, the microwave I want is out of stock – everywhere.”
The Scholarly Gentleman also has problems making decisions, but for a completely different reason. While I load up on data and stagger to the decision point, he makes a quick, easy decision – and then launches a sneak attack on it at the very last minute.
Just as we are about to leave for the restaurant, put the item in the cart, or click “Buy” online, he stops. You can almost see the lightbulb go on over his head.
“Hey, what about…” he begins, and then suggests something completely different.
This drives me nuts! We’ve decided to go to an Indian restaurant. I’m set on Tikka Masala, naan, and kulfi. Suddenly he wants to talk about pulled pork and coleslaw?
If he’d been in on the microwave decision, I’d probably have ended up buying a fire pit and roasting marshmallows.
While making decisions about micro-waves and eating out is challenging, it’s nothing compared to a decision about home repairs or remodeling.
Home Owners Club sends us two or three qualified contractors to bid our jobs. They’re always great folks, with rave reviews and detailed bids. But we’re still left facing the key decision: Which one do we hire?
Some folks decide based on price. Others decide based on experience. For the past seven years, we’ve made our decisions based on Max.
Max is an absolute expert – an authority who has supervised dozens of complex home repair and remodeling projects throughout our neighborhood. So when a contractor shows up to bid, we wait with bated breath to see if a large, placid tabby strolls out of the shrubbery to deliver the head-butt of approval.
Now if only Max knew something about microwaves …
