Decision Time in Aisle One

Decision Time

in Aisle

One

By Dorothy Rosby

I

have to put off getting my produce, dairy andfrozen foods until I’ve loaded everything else intomy grocery cart. Otherwise, my milk will curdle and my perishables will perish while I stand here trying to decide between whole wheat, crushed wheat, honey wheat, honey bran, sunflower, hazel nut and twelve grain bread.

Shopping for groceries — or anything else — is challenging for the indecisive. I finally choose twelve grain and head to the most difficult department of all: Personal Care.

Before me lies a display of toothpaste as far as the eye can see. I prefer gel to paste, but what do I need more? Enamel care, tarter control, cavity protection, extra whitening or breath freshening? Don’t answer that.

I’m exhausted and I still need shampoo. Do I want keratin repairing, volumizing, neutralizing, chelating or clarifying? I choose clarifying because I could use some clarity about now.

I take a deep breath and prepare to spend the rest of the afternoon in the hand lotion aisle. That’s how long it’s going to take me to decide if I want lotion that firms skin and gives radiance, hydrates hands and strengthens nails, protects from the sun and won’t wash off in water, or provides advanced

therapy. I pick the last one because therapy isjust what I need after choosing toothpaste andshampoo.

I’m paralyzed by too many choices. Fortunately,I have some coping mechanisms. Unfortunately,none of them help.

1) I put off grocery shopping until all that’s left toeat in our home is flour and ketchup.

2) When I can’t decide between two items, I buy both. I have two sweaters that look exactly alike, except one is purple and one is blue. And I have another set of duplicate sweaters, one blue and one pink, for the same reason. My closet looks like I live with an identical twin.

3) I pick a favorite and stick with it, no matter what new options are presented. For example, I always choose the same brand of vanilla yogurt. Boring? Maybe. But have you seen the yogurt aisle lately?

4) Faced with too many decisions, I choose… nothing. I’m not alone. In one study of the socalled paradox of choice, two psychologists found that customers presented with six varieties of jam were more likely to buy one than those who were offered 24 varieties. They were more likely to run screaming from the store.

I’ve now made it to detergent. Do I want liquid or

powder? Do I need detergent with bleach, without bleach or with bleach alternative? Do I need it to dissolve quickly, deep clean or fight odors? And if I choose deep cleaning, will my clean laundry smell bad?

I’ve been at the grocery store nearly an hour, and with the exception of a loaf of bread, I still don’t have any food.

I pick up my pace. I hurry passed the baking aisle; I don’t bake. I skip the dog food; I don’t have a dog. I dash past baby food; I don’t have a baby either.

I stand confidently in front of the canned veggies. I like beets, but not pickled beets, and I like my canned tomatoes diced so I don’t have to do it myself.

But then…I round the corner at canned soups. There is a cream-of-something soup for every day of the year and almost that many pasta choices: rotelle, cavatelli, farfalle, fusilli, mostaccioli, penne, rigatoni, ziti. Huh?

And Mother Nature can’t be beat for variety. I want apples – I’m just not sure if I want Gala, McIntosh, Red Delicious or Granny Smith. I need lettuce, but do I want romaine, red leaf, Bibb, or iceberg? I haven’t been this overwhelmed since toothpaste.

Finally, weary and confused, I head to the dairy aisle for milk (skim, 1%, 2%, whole, lactose free, chocolate, almond or soy), butter (salted, unsalted, low fat or regular) and cheese (too many to mention.) I have now spent more time picking groceries than I spent

choosing my car. By the time I get to the checkout line, my defenses are worn down like a dieter’s resistance in a donut shop. The only thing that keeps me from grabbing a handful of comfort candy bars in the checkout aisle is I can’t decide which ones I want.

Uh-oh. I forgot one thing. God help me! I need a birthday card.

(If you’re looking for Dorothy Rosby, she’s still at the grocery store.) BHW