Liver of Steel

I have a tendency to over-think things. As a result, my decision tree probably looks more like a decision heavily-browsed-riparian-shrub: where other people might have a 'yes' branch and a 'no' branch, I have countless numbers of 'maybes' and 'yes, buts' and 'if I only had a little more information to work withs'... all of which conclusions I tend to arrive at simultaneously, culminating in endless mental gridlock.

On my more euphemistic days, I prefer to think of it as quantum superdecisioning. Sounds more like a superpower that way.

Whitewashed flaws aside, I do happen to be blessed with a great many superpowers. Not all of them are fit for publication in a family-friendly blog such as this, but I can tell you that one of my personal favourites - I used it just today! - is that I don't get hangovers. Ever.

And so, in absence of any perceivable disincentive, the decision whether to imbibe is one of the few I can reliably make in life without an awful lot of hand-wringing or second-guessing. In fact, my decision shrub for whether or not to drink is more like a decision... stick. With 'yes' being the foregone conclusion.

And there might not even have been a question.

Here's a recent example:

"Ooo, I'm so excited about this party, I'll grab a glass of this nice chardonnay and mingle a bit."
"M'mm, that first glass went down pretty easy. Better grab another just to be sociable."
"Oh my goodness, what a delightful time for a refill!"
"You know what this cheese would go well with..."
"Shit, my glass got all empty again."
"Now onto the reds!"
"Don't mind if I do!"
"I love you, man!"
"More = YES."
"YES = YES."
"Paaaaartay!"
"WOOOO HOOOOOO!"

I lost track after the first twelve glasses or so, but you can see how the Decision Stick works: the fact that wine was present in the vicinity functioned as an implicit question, to which the answer was, invariably, 'yes'.  

Okay, so it's a bit of a blunt stick, but what the heck.

DH gave my Decision Stick a try at the wine party we hosted last night, and his trajectory more or less paralleled mine throughout the evening (see above). Unfortunately, the results of his experiment seem to indicate that he doesn't appear to possess quite the same degree of hepatic fortitude as myself.

But don't worry - I was able to force the bathroom door open wide enough to get a blanket more or less on top of him and check his pulse every couple of hours throughout the night. I'm sure he'll be back to normal in a couple of days.