we are choices

So I mentioned a few days ago that I am horrible at making decisions. Really. I will complain for hours, ask the opinion of everyone within earshot, worry constantly, and get super stressed out when I'm forced to make a decision. And that's usually just minor stuff--what color should I paint my room? Should I pierce my nose? Do these jeans make my butt look big? (Kidding about the last one, by the way. If my butt's big, it's going to look big no matter what I'm wearing, and I'll be proud of it!)

When it comes to minor choices, I freak out. I think that's because I'm so terrified of getting something wrong. My whole life, I have gotten things right. I get straight As, I practice things, I memorize facts and I answer questions. I know that makes me sound horribly conceited, and I'm sorry, but it really isn't a good thing.

Major decisions, I can usually figure out. Give me a few days, or maybe weeks, and I eventually decide what's best for me. Like yesterday, for example, when I decided the classes I'll be taking next year.

No big deal, right? But these courses determine which classes I take in grade eleven, as well as which courses I'm able to take in grade twelve, and which subjects I can study in university.

I'm taking a whole ton of academic courses: Bio, Physics, Chemistry, Pre-Calculus, English, Socials, French and--my one fun class--Photography.

For some reason, even though I know I've made the right choice for me, I'm gripped by this awful fear. I don't want to get this wrong. I don't want to get my life wrong.

So there we go. I just wanted to vent, I'm sorry. Life is stressful, life is anxious, life is... distinctly wonderful. And I hope I've made the right decision--I hope I will be happy--but even if I haven't, even if I'm not, I won't regret anything.