Confession # 86
I take surveys.
All women do. It is part of our nature.
Hardly a day goes by when my phone doesn’t ring without one of my friends asking me what I think about a situation and then proceeds to compare my answer, opinion or suggestion against all the others she has received so far.
“Do you think I should wear the green shoes with my gold dress or the black ones. Sandy says black what do you think?”
“Do you think Tiffany is still mad at me? She ran out of Starbucks without so much as a look in my directions. Alisa says she was just in a hurry, but Catherine told me she was certain she knew I was there.”
“My (husband/boyfriend/guy I am dating) asked me a strange question, what do you think it means? Yeah, that is what Lisa said too.”
I guess the real question is, why do we take surveys?
We all know the correct answer…
NO WE SHOULD NOT GO OUT WITH THAT GUY!
NO WE SHOULD NOT BUY A PAIR Of $600 SHOES!
NO… NO… NO…
But we take the survey anyway. We take it to find that one person who will give us the answer we are fishing for, the answer we want to hear.
That one person who says, sure why not, that sounds like a good idea. That one person who encourages us to give into our temptations. That one person who validates our stupidity.
That one person who understands that “The Heart Wants What It Wants,” even when all logic and common sense says otherwise.
I am in the middle of a survey. A survey I really don’t need to take, because I know what the correct answer should be. A survey I know that no one will give me the answer I am fishing for. A survey I cannot even include the opinions of my best friends because they would kill me.
I am in the middle of a survey that once all the data is in I will ignore. Because like I said before, “The Heart Wants What It Wants!”
All women do. It is part of our nature.
Hardly a day goes by when my phone doesn’t ring without one of my friends asking me what I think about a situation and then proceeds to compare my answer, opinion or suggestion against all the others she has received so far.
“Do you think I should wear the green shoes with my gold dress or the black ones. Sandy says black what do you think?”
“Do you think Tiffany is still mad at me? She ran out of Starbucks without so much as a look in my directions. Alisa says she was just in a hurry, but Catherine told me she was certain she knew I was there.”
“My (husband/boyfriend/guy I am dating) asked me a strange question, what do you think it means? Yeah, that is what Lisa said too.”
I guess the real question is, why do we take surveys?
We all know the correct answer…
NO WE SHOULD NOT GO OUT WITH THAT GUY!
NO WE SHOULD NOT BUY A PAIR Of $600 SHOES!
NO… NO… NO…
But we take the survey anyway. We take it to find that one person who will give us the answer we are fishing for, the answer we want to hear.
That one person who says, sure why not, that sounds like a good idea. That one person who encourages us to give into our temptations. That one person who validates our stupidity.
That one person who understands that “The Heart Wants What It Wants,” even when all logic and common sense says otherwise.
I am in the middle of a survey. A survey I really don’t need to take, because I know what the correct answer should be. A survey I know that no one will give me the answer I am fishing for. A survey I cannot even include the opinions of my best friends because they would kill me.
I am in the middle of a survey that once all the data is in I will ignore. Because like I said before, “The Heart Wants What It Wants!”
posted by BrazenlyBad at 1:08 PM
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