I am sure I have told you that the women in my family enjoy, and are generally good at, making group decisions. To the point where one of us was nicknamed by her loving husband, “Plannerina.” We all like to review information, just deeply enough, mind you, as to see patterns emerge. We enjoy sourcing others’ opinions, albeit quickly so as to maintain a glorious momentum towards the Time for Action When Nattering Has Ceased.
One could say that we have liked to take the reins. But the pandemic has brought a secondary epidemic of I Don’t Care You Decide, accompanied by her craven handmaiden, Oh To Heck With It Let’s Just Say Tuesday. Otherwise known as decision fatigue. Any of you suffering from it?
It’s understandable, for everyone. Two years of trying to make our way through a deadly natural disaster–information absent, information trickling in, policies established, policies unestablished, all the stuff you know so well I can’t imagine you’re still reading, well, those neurons are pretty darn tired of firing.
It’s not all bad, this. Tuesday may be the wrong day, but on the other hand, responsibility has been shared and weakness confessed.
Have a wonderful weekend.
9 Responses
Oh yes to all this. I have huge decision fatigue, and everyone in my family (who has counted on my strong opinions) now jokes that my new mantra is “good enough”. I think it’s true and maybe it’s a relief about some things, but I also am not sure that I like the “I don’t care that much” that has accompanied this, and also a loss of a certain kind of enthusiasm….? The silver lining is that I used to have a very hard time if plans changed and I felt disappointed. I’m now able to “pivot easily” according to my daughter, who is a fan and and also a critic. We finally have plans for a summer trip to Italy (cancelled for the last two summers) and although I’m looking forward to it – I also know that it might not happen. It’s a strange space to always be inhabiting.
Nattering aside, I have always had difficulty making decisions due to overthinking, So it was a relief to have the decision making taken out of my hands because of unanticipated and uncontrollable situations. Now we’re back to making plans and thinking these plans could still be upended but we are more willing to be flexible now. I guess that’s what we gained from the pandemic.
Bon week-end!
Yes, I think you’re onto something about decision fatigue. I am very careful to only make decisions for myself.
Luci
Not only that, but sometimes an inability to stick to a decision, giving myself too many options. I dislike indecision and I really find it irritating to constantly add: if things are ok…when planning. It can feel that I am being forced to procrastinate. Annoying. But, in the great scheme of things, a blip, a hitch.
It’s all the contingencies, right? All the little processors in our brains working all the algorithms, all of which are being continually disrupted by incoming “new data,” so much of which is supposedly urgent and important to our health and safety. . .
I think Jane (above) has it right — those Covid restrictions actually felt liberating in an odd way. . . .
That said, it’s been lovely to get out and meet up again, and if we can “just say tuesday” I’m good with that!
xo and Happy Weekend!
We all feel fatigued. Lately, I give everybody, including myself, a pass. Hopefully, one day we will all get back to our true selves.
Yes, decision fatigue. Also I think some degree of gratitude, although it doesn’t always feel obviously that this is the case. it is just the ability to get together, perhaps. And an acceptance, less begrudging than before, good enough is still a gift.
I don’t know. Just say Tuesday perhaps. And celebrate joy whenever it may raise its head.
I’ve sort of checked out of the world these past three months, after learning in January that my two closest living friends are both undergoing chemo for pancreatic cancer (one with the hope of a surgical cure, the other with the hope of a few more months beyond an expected end date). When coupled with the death that month of a dearly beloved nonagenarian friend of some sixty years, I’ve found that just getting from day to day has been activity enough – no planning required!
But I have been reading a lot of fiction, probably as a way to rise above my present reality. And at least one of those novels has been a delight: “Eligible,” by Curtis Sittenfeld, which is her update of “Pride and Prejudice,” taking the reader on a very fun journey from Manhattan to Cincinnati to the Stanford area and back, with Liz Bennet and Dr Darcy (and all those sisters!).
So I will try to bring some of that spirit into my own life – if not quite “toujours gai,” at least staying open to what pleasures can be found, without worrying about plans or decisions. Enjoying all our daffodils is a start…
Of course we’re “still reading” and, since the day you published this gem, I’m still gnawing on everyone’s wise words. At one point mid-pandemic when positive tests, soaring death rates, and hospitalizations were topping those from the day before, I happened upon an Instagram post: “If you’ve done nothing else today but hold onto yourself, then consider the day a success.”
Suddenly in a flash, I realized every time I’d uttered “I don’t care.” or “Just no.” or “Get on with it.” and my personal favorite, “Fine.” that these impatient utterances were enabling the larger part of my central nervous system to actually hold onto itself.
Given the added insults over these 2 years beyond the pandemic, came Variant 1, Variant 2, then the mad dash to get a ticket for a very limited # of vaccines, the vax/antivax war raging, an insane Presidential election, January 6, Ukraine, even last night’s outlaw behavior on the Oscars stage, they all taken together test how solid our wall of holding on to ourselves really is. [And in your case, add close family members’ illnesses and deaths.] And here comes Variant 3.
There will be no “going back to who we were,” there will only be new selves having shed a skin, the benefits of which so beautifully explained by you, your siblings and your commenters. [So why,then am I “nattering on,” I don’t know.]
I remain concerned about your wrist/elbow treatment, and am so hoping you’ll be able to shed that brace and regain pain-free mobility very, very soon Lisa. xo
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