One of my college professors had a phrase that I can remember as clear as a spring day, sparkling like dust in the sunny air of a hundred-year-old building full of not-so anxious students, because the windows were open, the petunias were persevering, and we got to be in communication with Dr. Murphy for two beautiful hours every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon.
"Choice is tragic," he would say. "It eliminates other choices."
We would often quote the explanation to each other. It was reason enough not to choose one job over another. It was vindication for keeping at bay the boy you just weren't sure about.
These days, I am reminded in the purchase of real estate that I have perhaps limited the freewheeling nature I might like to portray.
You just never know what may be around the mountain.
After all, choice is tragic. I want lots of choices.
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