the indecisive blog

Being a Libra is a curse.

Not only are you the only non-living entity in that Terrestrial Team of Twelve, you're plagued by that everlasting trait CONSTANTLY.

Indecisiveness.

Unbelievably mindboggling at most times but nothing less than a real pain.

Like today. You're filled to your ass with bees in your bonnet on a thousand and one things you want to do and complete - all the time - you suddenly stop and think "Where do I start?"

NOOOOW, that's the worst phrase to sprout in a Libra's brains (we can't decide how many we have reacting at any one time).

And so a whole day wasted tiring my already tired cells on what to do, no, what BEST to do, no, what BEST to do in the MOST appropriate time that I FEEL it timely to do.

Like I wanted to go for a stroll in Bishan Park browse some mags at Kino pop by Raoul at Suntec City hop down to the beach clean my table clear my room read a chapter of my Atwood decorate my office cubicle manage my gargantuan email inbox write a blog entry watch my Muppets DVD get a crack on my freelance work pick up my concert ticket flip through my coffee table cat book ALL AT THE BLOODY SAME TIME.

*sigh*

Yeee-up.

Went through soooo many mental teh tarik somersaults and end up doing what?

A nap.

*non-plussed look*

Happens all the time. Total fucking day wasted.

Such wretched creatures, we Libbies.

Like even choosing what to play on my iTunes now can become a real challenge worthy of a military tactical attack: The mood must be right. The tune must suit the mood. The pace must match the tune. The voice must fit the pace.

That's why Libras should never do sharpshooting, sprinting or sales.

Can die man.

Can anyone imagine Darwin were a Libra? You and me would be half-decided breeds of some half-known critter.

Or picture Columbus de-Libra-rating on his ship: "Hmmm, now should we berth on the portside OR the starboard...?"

Or Hitler driving his commandants nuts: "Chop off their heads... No, no - too messy. Can't stand blood. Gun them... No, too noisy - my eardrums. Smother them... Too tiring, think of the sweat. Er, what do you think huh, Himmler...?"

(Then again, won't be that bad an idea eh, an indecisive suicidal terrorist despot?? "We crash the World Trade. Maybe not, not glam lah. What say we smash that cheesy Liberty broad? Nah, no lives killed lah.)

And so it is with this blog. A whole fucking day to finally decide the time FELT right (all divine courses in the universe aligned) to talk about - INDECISIVENESS.

Neat.

But at least am decisive about something.

Kings of Convenience, the goldsmiths of a bucolic brand of pop, comes to town!!!

Yup, concert ticket booked and ready. Am so looking forward to it.

Now to decide on collection. And how to go down. And what time.

Decisions, decisions...