I may have written something about this before. I remember a while back reading about the finite quota (sort of a quota) of decisions one has at one's disposal each day. Once you've used up your quota you can't do a thing until tomorrow. Heaven knows I use a lot; maybe that's why I end up so blah by mid-afternoon: I've used up my quota.
The decisions begin before I'm even fully conscious: what time should I go swimming? If I wake too early, that is, before the pool is open for the day, and if I can't get back to sleep, then I pick up my iPad mini, see how the Blue Jays did (if I didn't see the game or didn't stay until the end) and find out when the next game is (today at 1 p.m.). Then I check the Manchester Guardian, to which I have a digital daily subscription, to see what's going on in the world. I also have a digital daily subscription to the New York Times but they keep forgetting and ask me to subscribe at the end of each month. (Very annoying; I'm going back to the Sunday paper edition at the end of my subscription). If I get too absorbed in something, then I'm late for my swim. Of it's too dark - getting darker all the time as the days shorten (they shorten first in the morning on DST), then I swim a little later. With a new mattress, I'm finding I sleep a little longer. But I'm in the pool by 7:30, latest. See - I've already made a few decisions.
The day unfolds. I usually have an agenda: a definitive goal to be achieved with a few peripheral tasks to com[lete (?). Ah, if ONLY one could complete anything!! That's why doing the laundry is so satisfying: it gets completed. And it takes only one decision; once launched, you're committed. But that's only once a week now (I live alone.)
i haven't mentioned meals. MAJOR decisions! Beginning with breakfast. All very well for those who skip breakfast but you're not supposed to do that. I found that out the first morning after my honeymoon. Bill had eaten oatmeal porridge every day of his life, and I was expected to do the same: cook i9t and eat it.. His mother had shown me her wooden stirring spoon, the bowl worn down from an oval to a tri-cornered nub at the end of the handle. (This is called a spurtle* now and can be purchased from Lee Valley, for a price. It looks more like a dowel.) Just think how much wood Bill and his siblings had ingested over the years!
*"The spurtle (or "spurtel", "spurtil", "spirtle" or "spartle") is a wooden Scottish kitchen tool, dating from the fifteenth century, that is used to stir porridge, soups, stews and broths. ... The custom is that a spurtle should be used to stir in a clockwise direction with the right hand. " Wikipedia
from Google: "Since 1996, the World Porridge Making Championships have taken place each year in the Scottish Highlands village of Carrbridge. The oaty cook-off draws competitors from across the globe to compete for the coveted Golden Spurtle trophy and title of “World Porridge Making Champion.” Not satisfied with just oats, water and salt? Don’t worry, competitors also battle it out for the speciality trophy in a section that celebrates the versatility of porridge with past winners including Sticky Toffee Porridge, Fruity Date Porridge and Pinhead Risotto with Lemon and Thyme and Parmesan – the possibilities are endless!"
That still doesn't absolve me from further decisions about breakfast, including that to have with the oatmeal. Bill like his with salt and heavy cream. I like a bit of brown sugar. You can buy oatmeal now at Starbucks and add extras like nuts or raisins and other dried fruit, plus cinnamon with your brown sugar. More decisions.
I don't like oatmeal year-round, not in really hot weather. No smoothies , though. (aargh) And no sugar in your non-fat yogurt. Fresh fruit. How about eggs? More decisions. Move on.
Lunch is also a problem. Choices (read: decisions) abound. Soup (winter if hot, but cold if the weather is warm), salad, sandwich, or a real meal if the lunch is more or less formal. Brunch solves but also presents more decisions to be made. BTW, did you know that Cobb's salad (named after the man who invented it) comprises more calories than the average full-course dinner?
it is supposed to have come about in 1937 at the Hollywood Brown Derby restaurant, where it became a signature dish. It is named for the restaurant's owner, Robert Howard Cobb. Stories vary whether the salad was invented by Cobb or by his chef, Paul J. Posti. Wikpedia
Cobb Salad
6 slices bacon
3 eggs
1 head iceberg lettuce, shredded
3 cups chopped, cooked chicken meat
2 tomatoes, seeded and chopped
Oh, dear, this goes on and on. And I've only reached noon/lunchtime. actually it's now 12:57 p.m. as I write and I'm going to have lunch now and I have to decide what I'll have...
to be continued....