Confessions of a flip-flopper

Hello my name is Suzanne, and I’m a flip-flopper.

It’s not easy being me. To always see each opposing side of an issue, to constantly seek the middle ground, the path that makes the majority happy. To suffer at the mere idea of having to choose a side on anything by disregarding possible options to the contrary. Standing convicted of anything is as difficult for me as climbing an ice capped rocky mountain…in the winter…during a blizzard… naked… without a rope… or a map...with my hands tied…to my feet. There’s soooo many things to consider, and possibilities abound. Who am I to say or judge what’s right or wrong?

Maybe Senator Kerry is the same way? Maybe he really was for sending the troops to war, before he was against it? Maybe he really was for spending the money on our troops, before he voted against it? Maybe he can’t decide which shirt to put on in the morning either? Can I blame the man for not being able to make up his mind? (Hello Kettle?... this is the pot) I have no strong convictions to vote for either presidential candidate this year. I see good and bad in both, and unfortunately for us, this is not a multiple choice vote with a c) none of the above option. Do you suppose that if enough of us penciled in “Dick Cheney for president” it would fly?

There are a few exceptions to this rule, topics where my opinion will never falter no matter what you do or say and if I’m confronted with the issue, will whip out my proverbial soap box, sit there and refuse to budge. Smoking is one such issue. I’ll never smoke, I hate it, it makes me sneeze. (At this point I’ll refer you to my previous post on “needing a nap”.) Don’t get me wrong. This doesn’t mean I will ever, EVER push my feelings on you. If you want to smoke… go ahead and knock yourself out. You’ll just never convince ME that it’s acceptable, tastes good, won’t kill you, won’t age you, doesn’t cost too much, or is socially appealing. I’ll never give. Don’t even go there,
you’ll shoot yourself trying. Just smoke your cigarette, preferably away from me, and leave me to savor the one conviction I do have. Now…back to flip flopping.

I have always had a hard time making up my mind for as long as I can remember. There is evidence of this all around me. Just look in my closet for example. You’ll find the same shirt in three colors, the same shoes in 4 colors, the same dress in multiple patterns simply because I couldn’t make up my mind at the time, which color was the best choice or which I liked the most. I couldn’t commit to just ONE, when two of them were perfect. How would I know if I was going to be in a red mood, or a purple mood the day I would wear that shirt? Black is classic, but sometimes browns are better. Shopping could take forever at this pace. I’m getting tense, little beads of perspiration are starting to form on my brow, I wring my hands together…the pressure to make a decision is here, and this is where said condition begins. Indecision.

With age, experience and financial independence I’ve learned how to cope with this shortcoming of mine, this inability to make a decision. Carry them both to the register and purchase each color in question. There. Decision averted. Whew! That was close.

It’s not that I lack substance, and I realize my shopping story is just a silly example for the sake of illustrating a point. While diplomatic in nature, this inane ability to see a situation from every side is frustrating at best. Without trying, I put myself in someone else’s shoes and see the point from their eyes. There are pro’s and con’s for everything. There are good and bad qualities in every person. Do I really have to decide, without a shadow of a doubt, on anything? In the grand scheme of things, does it really matter what I think in the first place?