The Paradox of Choice
I'm perfect. I know this to be true, and it's widely accepted in society. You don't get where I am if you're not. I'm also brutally honest. We live in times that call for that and friends, I'm giving it to you. I have been giving it to you, I will continue giving it to you. Which means that when something occurs that might, under particularly uncharitable lighting, be interpreted as a flaw, I need to tell you about it.
Did I mention brutally honest?
The topic of the day is decision paralysis, and apparently it stems from something called The Paradox of Choice. Now, I won't try to impress you by telling you that this is a concept popularized by psychologist Barry Schwartz, demonstrating that while freedom of choice is wonderful, an excess of options can lead to dissatisfaction, anxiety and paralysis. I don't need to casually drop academic references to make you think any better of me.
You already do.
Anyway, with everything going on, the invitations piling up on my desk and the events multiplying on The List, sometimes I just… can’t…. and wing it. Yesterday was one of those nights. Or at least, it started as one.
Sylwia sent out a group message.
I've known Sylwia for a while now and, in the spirit of today's brutal honesty, I feel like I've been ignoring her a little. Not deliberately, obviously. Important people are busy. So her invitation to the Elephant House Club arrived at exactly the right moment.
I haven't spent much time around Elephants. Being brutally honest doesn't usually leave many elephants in rooms, so perhaps that's why. But it was good to be there, and even better to see Sylwia again.
After that, I circled back to The List. After all, it's a pretty great list. I use it myself and if you aspire to be even remotely as awesome as I am, you should do the same. Yes.
That's how I ended up on the beach at The Drip and I'm no longer entirely sure how many different places they actually have. Every time I think I understand the geography, somebody opens another door and suddenly there's a beach. I did like this one, though. And seeing The Drip back in action after a break felt a little like the unofficial announcement that summer is coming to an end. The evidence is mounting. Back-to-school invitations from Sunvana and The Void have started appearing as well. This week, we're all expected to put our clothes back on, sharpen our pencils and fake that we've learned something over the summer.
My beach time was cut rather abruptly, though.
My accountant, whom I really don't speak to as often as I probably should, sent me a somewhat panicked message. Something about my investment portfolio. Apparently my Tokyo stocks were at risk because everyone over there had suddenly decided to stop working?
Hard to imagine. Still, financial empires don't maintain themselves, so I had to leave the beach and find out what on earth was going on. Apparently, there was an executive meeting in the offices of... Sonance?
I'll tell you more about that next time.
Brutally honestly, of course.
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This post is not sponsored or paid for in any way. I was also not blackmailed or tortured to write it.
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