The first time we took our new dog to the vet, I was an emotional train wreck. She started rattling off shots that I thought he already had at the shelter, the dog was wild while my husband tried to calm him down, and my bill was about $140 over the $50 I anticipated. “What the hell had I done?” was resounding loudly in my head as I literally broke into tears in between the Vet going in and out of the room.
The older I get, the more I am coming to accept certain things about myself. One of them being that I often have a tough time making definitive decisions. Don’t give me a ton of options, because I may take 20 years to decide. Whether it’s the color of paint, what ice cream I want or any of the more serious things you have to choose in life, often times I can’t commit. But the key to giving up wishy washy ways, is giving up the fear of making the wrong choice.