. . . or get off the pot.

Yup. That's what life's all about. One way or. Another way. It all comes down to making a choice. My young nephew already has it all figured out. Lucky boy.
Coffee or tea.
Boxers or briefs.
Cat or dog.
Cotton or poly.
Flats or heels.
White or whole wheat.
Window or aisle.
NCAA or NBA.
Hardback or paperback.
Network or cable.
Upstairs or downstairs.
Stick it out or head out.
Fries or slaw.
Mac or PC.
Car or bus.
Stay-at-home or back-to-work.
Love or hate.
Smoking or non-smoking.
Good or bad.
War or peace.

Not that I'm equating choosing fat-free half and half over the real thing with a major life choice. Thing is--whatever your situation, you've just got to make your choice and get on with it.

The Husband and I would never be accused of over-thinking a situation. We're the ones who uprooted our little family from south Minneapolis and moved to LaCrosse, Wisconsin. Almost on a whim. Not once, but twice. In fact, during our 30-year marriage we've had 8 different addresses and disproved the old axiom: “you can’t lose with real estate”. Twice. We hemorrhaged cash, but do you see me crying about it. (Well, not any more.) It’s just money, we can make some more. Of course, we won’t be retiring until we’re 97.

Rule Numero Uno here in MadgeWorld is that once “Everything Will Work Out.” And it does. I could have completed the student teaching assignment and not dropped out of college. But then I wouldn’t have worked at Haskell’s which led to my first job in advertising. (Long story.) Which led to a job at Target.

When I left Target Advertising, my sister, Rita, took my place. At 10 cents MORE per hour! I went to work for Cy DeCosse (thanks Cy, without you I would not be earning a living today. Another long story). Sure, I could have stayed at Target for 30 years and been a millionairesse with stock options. But then Rita wouldn’t have met Mike, who also worked for Cy. I wouldn’t have three gorgeous nieces. Honestly, I couldn’t live with the guilt.

I’ve tried to drill Rule One into my kid’s thick skulls. I thought they’d learn my go-with-the-flow method by imitation. But no. I’ve got one who makes a spreadsheet for everything. Another one who overthinks everything. Another one who borders on the neurotic. And another one who remains a mystery. Whatever their methods, it seems to be working for them.

Real estate disasters aside, our modus operandi has worked for us. It's like the string theory of physics. In fact, I’m getting a little restless. I feel another whim coming on. One way or. Another way. That’s life. Enjoy the journey.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I’m going to have breakfast.
Cereal or eggs.
Toast or hash browns.
MPR or Jazz and Traffic.