Is it just me, or is it you too that has heard, say in the past six months, someone in your circle of friends or family, maybe the guy in the next barber chair or the lady next to you on the bus, has said “Old is ugly?” Oh you may have heard a variation of this quite remarkable remark by mixing up the words, saying the golden years are not so golden, or getting up there is not for wimps. But I venture to say some delightful mix of words, that could evolve into this same sentiment, has gone in one of your delicate ears and instead of trotting on out the other ear, this little tidbit of wisdom settled somewhere in the recesses of your brain.
Unless you’re called to your reward sooner than later, you’re going to become an older person. For the purpose of this little bit of wisdom, let’s just say older is more than just a few days older than you are now. But there’s a remarkable and troubling thing that happens as the days trot by. I’m not talking about things like hair growing where it didn’t before, or hair not growing where it used to. No, I have run onto something that has become a daily, well, not really a problem, just more of a conundrum — decision making. Yes, I know in its essence conundrum can mean decision, but it also means a difficult problem. A problem that as I get older I see as becoming quite a major hurdle of my days. For instance ...
I buy what I, and maybe you, know as the blue milk. The 2 percent. I know without even reading the carton the milk with the blue cap is the milk for me. But some rocket scientist at some milk plant has decided to add another color to the milk caps. Kind of a pinkish-purplish-bluish that under the wonderful florescent milk cooler lighting can be seen as a washed out blue. Not only has this new color arrived, but it took the spot in the cooler where the real blue milk was. So I was not so pleasantly surprised when I got home after traveling more than a hundred miles to get my groceries to find now I have a new improved 1 percent milk that ordinarily is the green cap milk. I truly do live in another world where it’s a happy thing to travel to buy groceries by the month and save lots of money. Traveling and saving are grand parts of life, but I need to get back on my original path ...
So this milk thing has caused me to make some decisions. What the decisions are really aren’t of much interest unless you own the store selling me the milk and no one around here is, but the fact I’m having a time making the decisions is. I admit it, I have become a waffle. I waffle to and fro. Leaning one way then, oh, by the way, there’s another way to look at the same problem, so I waffle the other way. Until I metaphorically grab myself up by the collar, (which is hard to do since my wardrobe is more than 90 percent T-shirts), let’s see, where was I? Yes, yes, grab myself up by the collar and say, “Get a grip and make a decision already you dolt.” I don’t really think I’m a dolt. Well, actually I may be a little dolt-y — see what I mean, I can’t even seem to stick to the dolt-ta-tivity of myself!
Okay, I have isolated the problem, now I’m going to miraculously solve it. They say admitting you have a problem is the biggest problem and the biggest step in solving the problem. So, hey, I’m more than halfway there. Maybe further than halfway, maybe seven eights. I know, I’m waffling again.
Most daily problems only have two solutions, either you do something or you don’t do something. I mean think about it in terms of the milk. Either I’m going to take the few extra seconds to learn where the blue milk has been moved to, or I willy nilly just grab from the spot I have become accustomed to grab at and end up with either the blue milk my morning cereal deserves, or, if that aforementioned rocket scientist is still on the payroll, I again bring home the “new and improved” milk. I’ll take the time, no, I’ll just grab and go, no time, no grab ...
I’ve got it. I live in Nevada for goodness sake. The home of the greatest gambling mecca of all times. I will solve this milk conundrum with the flip of a coin. How so very simple! Just one more thing — should I use a quarter or half dollar?
Trina Machacek lives in Eureka, Nevada. Her book ITY BITS can be found on Kindle. Share your thoughts and opinions with her at itybytrina@yahoo.com.
