Littoral

22 Feb 2010

There's a narrow margin between the right and wrong decision. I'm sure everyone knows that. Do you have kids, or not have kids? Seems like an easy choice until you think “yes” and spend your whole life mopping after a sullen ball of unwashed hair that eventually gets arrested for sexually assaulting the neighbours' budgie.

An easier choice, in theory, is “shall I get a taxi to work because I'm embarrassingly late”. It should be easy. But good risk management suggests that there are so many things that could go wrong.

Your driver could be the only driver that passes through Islington who doesn't know to avoid Angel.

This being the case, he may be the only driver anywhere who thinks it is sensible to then take a shortcut that takes you full three miles out of your way.

By avoiding roadworks in Angel, you may encounter six other sets of roadworks not on the obvious route.

This could all cost you a full 15 times more than the bus.

It may take you longer than the bus.

You will end up late, poor and thoroughly pissed off.

Decisions. They're bastards. I've always wondered about decisive people. Obviously they can't be right all the time, or they'd all be God. But they're still decisive. Is this because they just don't care about being wrong?

See, I'm sure I could do that. I'm just not entirely sure that it's a good thing. There aren't many walks of life where not giving a fuck is considered a positive character trait. But I'm determined to try it.

Or at least, I think I am.