It could just be me, but…
there seems to be something about this season, that makes it infinitely more difficult to make a decision...and stick to it.
It could be something trivial such as whether to go for a run or not, or something comparatively more important such as the trajectory of an important project at work.
In both cases, resisting the urge to procrastinate seems almost impossible, even in spite of knowing that the only answer to the problem of ‘analysis paralysis’, is to JUST. START. ALREADY!
I’ve been trying to pin-point a reason as to why the early-evening-run routine especially - something for which I’ve previously required zero persuasion in sticking to - seems to now be foregrounded in at least half an hour of shall-I-shan’t-I’ing, much of which is centred around repeatedly checking outside the window to establish that yes...it IS still cold/getting dark/a bit wet.
It would be all too easy to pin this particular procrastination problem on the *very unappealing* prospect that is slopping the streets in soggy trainers, but... I have to be honest.
I have a feeling, as well, that the dithering might be a tad more deep-rooted.
Why?
Because even the theme of this post - for example - wasn’t immune from the now ubiquitous umming-and-ahhings and mulling-things-over that my local friendly Barista, especially, has come to accept and even find humour in.
What I HAVE come to deduce, with all of this in mind, is that the absence of decisiveness (particularly when it comes to those big Americano-or-flat-white shaped questions) is not so much rooted in awkwardness or ‘lost mojos’... but instead in the complexities of adapting to a season which has ‘change’ as it’s hallmark.