Don't Fence Me In

Natasha, has found a wine tasting course she wants to take. And since going to a wine tasting by yourself is for sissies, she has invited the girls to join her. Now, normally I would be the first one to sign on for this sort of evening. Wine, Good. The Girls, Good. Liberal environment to imbue too much, Good.

But I hesitated. The emails were flying fast and furious. It seems everyone was in. Everyone, but me. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to stay invisible long. So when I went for supper with Tash the other night it came up. Was I coming, or what?

To which I could only answer one thing. I don't know.

It seems I am having some residual effects from being over scheduled the last few years. My impulse control is all wonky. It says yes, when it should say, no. It agrees to do things I don't want to do. Therefore, I have put it under house arrest, where is sits on a rickety chair in a corner with my subconscious continually saying to it, 'repeat after me, NO.' Only now it seems it can only say No. Or it waffles interminably until someone just tells me that I am doing something. This is a not a healthy state. My impulse control has become a shaky, nervous sweaty lump. Why can't people be happy with, I don't know? Because I am positive about not knowing.

Picture from Flickr