if there is something i hate doing, it’s making decisions. i hem and haw over everything. it could be something big like, am i going to school after i graduate? and if so, where? or it could be something little. i know i need this pair of black pants, but i just don’t know if i should pay this amount for a pair of pants (i tend to be a bit of a tight-wad when it comes to buying things for myself). if i’m at a new restaraunt i can’t decide. i don’t know what to order, you tell me what you like here and if it sounds good then i’ll order it. i just hate making decisions.

my family is going away to Fort Ticonderoga tomorrow. it’ll be a weekend thing – a weekend in a tent. now i’m not really all that into camping. i don’t deal well with mosquitos and being around hundreds of smelly people because they haven’t showered in a few days and spend all their time out in the hot sun. i figured it’d be a family thing and was waiting to be told i had to go. but no, my dad asks me if i’m going. darn. now i have to make a decision.

i don’t regret rapping. i don’t regret being loud. i don’t regret alot of things, but i do regret decisions i’ve made in the past – especially concerning family events. i don’t want to go and then hate every minute of it, but i don’t want to stay and realize that it could have been a good time.

i’m really sorry if you’ve read all this. just me being my phlegmatic, indecisive self, and complaining a bit about it. we’ll see what happens.