Friday, August 28, 2009

He Who Hesitates Is...

... usually pretty lucky. She who hesitates however usually gets shafted.

I think by nature most women are planners, organizers, schedulers.

We are the Keeper of All Things To Be Done. We need to know when, where, why, with who and of course Plan B. And C. Some say Control Freak. I say Multi-Tasking Guru.

Take vacations, for instance. Our vacations are booked well in advance. I'd book into 2018 if I could, except the stupid reservation systems have this limit of only 365 days in advance. Whatever.

Before we go anywhere I research the destinations of interest - is there something we should not miss when visiting? I check hotel ratings on Tripadvisor - are the rooms old and worn or modern and sleek? I check average temperatures for that time of year - monsoon season offers great discounts but I'll pass, thanks.

Do we need a car? Shots? Passports? Friend for Ziggy? Our own beach towels? Our own toilet paper? I'm making a list and checking it twice my friends. It's just how I roll.

TK, on the other hand, is more of a last minute kind of guy. If there's a trade show that he'd like to attend on October 1st he mentions it in May. I am all over it - here are your hotels options, book now for discounts, registration ends on such and such a day, you'll never get it if you don't grab it now, blah, blah, blah. He thanks me and says he'll think about it. Which he does.

But not until again, say, September 25th. At which point he calmly calls the show management, explains he "forgot" to register, not only gets in but also gets the early bird discount (what???!!), finds a room at the preferred hotel, gets upgraded to Club Level and scores a First Class seat while using a ticket someone comped for his flight.

If that were me, I'd be flying the unfriendly skies wedged between two frat boys who had partied all night, never slept - or showered - were both still legally drunk despite the fact the alcohol was now seeping out of their pores and into the oxygen around me. They'd order beers as soon as we took off so they could play a drinking game that involved how many people used the restroom during the flight, resulting in high fives over my head with every sip. Did I mention they hadn't showered?

I hesitate for a nanosecond and BAM! The concert is sold out. Traffic is jammed up. The last bagel is stale. Brad Pitt marries someone else.

It just doesn't work for me.

Hesitation. Averseness. Ponderance. Ambivalence. Tentativeness. And the big P word - Procrastination. Heavy, ugly words that sound ominous and gloomy. I think I hear organ music thundering in the background and I'm getting the heeby-jeebies. Blech.

Prepared. Primed. Arranged. Decisive. Certainty. Aren't those just music to your ears? And not the foreboding organ music of passivity but oh, maybe more like something with a beat that you can dance to. Yeah.

3 comments:

TK said...

LMAO...I know exactly the who, what, where you are talking about. You forgot to mention that the night before I travel alone you always ask me if I have thought about transporation. Which is always followed by "no but I will figure it out a baggage claim"

Little Ms J said...

I am a mix of you and your man. I typically have an idea of what I want to do when I get there, but a lot of times I'm just "wingin' it."

Debbie said...

Hysterical! You are right. I am the planner down to the last inch. And my sweet husband gets the free ride.