In a minute there is time for decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse

There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
...
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
(from T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock")

"The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" is one of my all time favourite pieces of poetry. I totally understand the utter terror that Prufrock experiences at making any sort of decision or taking any sort of action. Decision-making is not my forte. Even once I make a decision I am forever second-guessing myself. I wish that I could just make a decision and stay completely at peace with it, but I never do. No matter how certain I am of something when I choose it I will inevitably be bombarded with doubts later. It doesn't help that my moments of clarity and blinding insight into what I want to do with my life tend to conflict with one another. I will be certain that I want to pursue a particular path only to change my life a couple of weeks (or days, or hours, or minutes) later. Decisions paralyze me because of this. Even small choices, like what brand of shampoo to buy, stress me out. In the long run does it really matter what brand of shampoo I have? Maybe a tiny bit (after all some brands are really not all that effective...), but not enough that I should be left standing in front of the wall of shampoo at the grocery store for 10 minutes. If something like that baffles me, then you can imagine how terrifying I am finding the process of deciding what to do after I graduate. I made a pretty big decision today that is kind of related to the whole planning my life bit and even though I know that I made the right choice, the doubts are nagging me and I am starting to freak out that maybe I was wrong.

Part of the problem is that I just want everything. I don't want to have to choose. I wish I could be a wildflower. It doesn't matter that this little guy decided that half of his petals would stand straight up while the other half folded out nicely. In fact, it made him all the more interesting and photo-worthy. I, on the other hand, am just a mess who needs to figure her life out.