No question plagued Jeremy more than this one, where do I live? For years, whenever he had to make a choice, he just couldn’t do it. He’d freeze up, make a random choice, regret it, and invariably, he’d change his mind.
These days, with a stiff lower back, a growing paunch in his stomach, and eyes that couldn’t read menus less than two feet away, he was trying to decide – do I move to Pittsburgh to be closer to my family, or do I stay here in New York with my lovely Central Park condo and my friends with benefits?
Jeremy suffered from dry mouth and went to the bathroom all the time. He woke up in the middle of the night, nauseated and his heart racing. He snapped at that pretty Starbucks waitress when she didn’t give him his mocha latte in less than five minutes. And he kept dropping things at home, like the container of dog food that went flying all over the kitchen floor. Chestnut went nuts over all the nuggets.
So Jeremy did what he thought best. He tossed a coin and resolved to make the decision that way. Pittsburgh won. But then he thought, perhaps it should be two out of three. Pittsburgh again. No, three out of five. This time it was New York. Ah, yes – but his family would be so disappointed. Better make it eleven out of twenty-one. Pittsburgh won again.
Okay, enough, Jeremy said aloud – several times. Pittsburgh won the coin toss. His relatives would be relieved, finally Jeremy made a decision and stuck with it. But just as he was packing his books and his condoms, he started to think – do I really want to move?
If this had been the Gore-Bush election of 2000, Jeremy would’ve been Florida.
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