“You sure? Picking out a book... that’s kind of an intimate decision,” the chosen one said. She was sitting at a tiny table with a little boy and looking up at me as if I were one more irritation[27] in an already long day. But once I said I was positive, she popped up as if she’d just adopted me.[28]
“Follow me,” she said. With the little boy in hand, she cut across the library with the supermarket stride of a mom who just realized she’d forgotten the Fruit Roll-Ups two aisles back.[29] We were headed deep into the bowels[30]—past the self-helps, beyond the reference books, even. Then she stopped, pivoted[31], dropped a 4-pound book in my hands and said,
“Here.”
I thanked her profusely[32], but I’m not sure it even registered. She just mentally checked me off[33] her list and was on her way. The whole encounter—in fact, the entire day—was astonishing. By dusk, my new life’s course had been set by an entire team of people whose names I didn’t even know.
I was almost giddy[34].
When I told a friend about my experiment and how much I was getting accomplished, she posed an interesting question: “What if you can’t stop?”
In fact, the question was so good that I’ve decided there is no good reason to shut down this adventure after just two weeks. Random Acts of Indecision is not a social experiment. It’s a lifestyle.
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