Illustration by the author

The best days are the ones when I take a little longer to decide what to do. Partially because if I do know exactly what to do, it’s because there’s some ghastly deadline bearing down on me. Those days are always worse.

Partially because if I do know exactly what to do, it’s because there’s some ghastly deadline bearing down on me. Those days are always worse.

The other reason is the first decision shapes the rest of the day, and is worth a little slow reflection.

For better or worse, my schedule is complicated. Competing priorities fight for attention. My mental capacities vary from day to day. Fitting those together isn’t obvious.

When I decide quickly, I oversimplify.

For me, deciding is like a starter’s pistol. Once I know what to do, I suddenly CAN’T WAIT to start. It’s a ridiculous, uncomfortable obsession, and I can’t focus on anything else.

Delaying this condition into later in the morning, after I’ve listened to the birds chattering and enjoyed breakfast, can only be a good thing.