Some decisions one takes come back to haunt one; others start the haunting from day one.

The more I take stock of the decisions I have taken in my life, the more convinced I am of my extraordinary ability to push through with decisions against my better judgement; that is decisions taken by me against my better judgement, and pushed ahead with, yes! you guessed it, against my better judgement.

This is not to admit, however that I have mostly taken wrong decisions in my life. It just implies that my better judgement is not always the best judgement. It must rank amongst the most sophisticated and evolved defence mechanisms in the history of humans, this extraordinary attribute of mine to withstand, and often stand up to, the folly of my own under-developed intellect. Statistically, the possibilities of my choosing a potentially less hazardous of available options, while exercising my better judgement are minimal. Do not ask me "how?" I was never very good at statistics, but I have seen the term used often enough to know that whatever the possibilities be, and there are always possibilities - minimal or maximum, they are always more reliable and convincing when stated statistically.

One only has to look at the number of my friends to know that even minimal in this regard is a sizeable number.

There are other more tragic times, however, when I have taken decisions against my better judgement, and exercising all my above-mentioned talent have pushed ahead with that decision only to end up with egg in my face. This, however, proves nothing. I know perfectly well that had I taken the decision favored by my better judgement I would still have ended up with egg in my face. It just proves that there are times when there are no right decisions, and one must just wipe the egg off one's face and live with the stink until the faucets have some water to offer, and there is a bar of soap, preferably scented, handy. One must also remember that long after the soap and water have done their job, there will always be the memory of that stink, and of that icky feeling when one had hosted an egg (or two) on one's face.

Just goes on to prove that the chicken had come first. They had to; the annals of history are full of people who had ended up with egg in their face, and if so many eggs were so speedily being used up, the poor chicken would have had a tough time amasing enough numbers to help the chinese with the discovery of drum sticks. It was a survival thing for them; they had to come first.

Having said that, I am sorry for all the wrong decisions I have taken instead of taking the other wrong decisions I should have taken, and the consequent pain I have caused to people; most of all, to myself.

But hey, look at the bright side - the water bills are high, and the soap factories are doing roaring business!