A Spot of Indecision.

The UTAR offer letter came today, through courier and all, in a white envelope that was a little crumpled at the edge when I first saw it (it also came with a considerable amount of nagging from dad who, quite by his right, is proud to the first receiver of the letter and also aggravated with the fact that he had to sign for it and I didn’t, because I was asleep).

I wasted no time ripping it open (under an imaginary ceremonious musical score). Found out that I have to pay a fee deposit of RM500 by Saturday, quite manageable, and altogether with the Degree 2^nd year subjects I have to take, I’ll also be taking two extra subjects from year one (one LAN paper, one Interpersonal Communication). Things are looking good, and classes commence next Monday, so I’m having my break cut short.

Anyhow, through an accompanying schedule included with the offer letter and Ling’s impeccably timed sms, I learned that the orientation is tomorrow.

And I couldn’t, for the love of sugar, spice and everything nice, decide whether I should go or not.

I have no doubt that orientation is more prominent than any other thing I had planned for tomorrow (Ps2, Good Omens, Stephen Chow movie collection, Gone With the Wind and activities befitting a true and honourable couch tuber-plant), but I’m quick to remember that orientations never really do sit well with me. For one; I never listen to speeches. For two; my ability to absorb, understand and remember things are similar to that of a sleep-deprived puffer-fish. For three; I have the Thursday and Friday planned with outings, which means I have to be financially cautious if I am to go.

8 hours later and after several unbeneficial conclusions later, I was indecisive enough to decide that I didn’t need to decide at all, and just choose to sleep it over and wake up, drink some tea (with advertised metathepahnine or something) and then rough out my options and evaluation, and hopefully by the time I’m done the orientation is over by 3 months and I’m already taking my exams.

So I took it to my family members, to help me decide.

Being rationally the safest bet, I brought it to mom first.

“Mom, I can’t decide whether or not I should attend the UNI orientation,” I said, and gave her my reasons and excuses.

“Well, if it’s important, then you should go. If it’s not important, don’t go. So if you feel like going, just go, don’t worry, but of course, only if you feel like going. But maybe you should go, you know, though if you don’t want to then you can just stay at home. But it’s an orientation, right? I thought you have to attend that. It’s optional? Then don’t go la. But you go it’s good, because it’s orientation. But only if you feel like going.”

Feeling that nothing was actually solved, I moved to my brother.

“Orientation?” he said, pushing up his glasses. “It’s stupid. There’s nothing in orientations. You go there and you listen to the stupid principals giving stupid speeches, and the stuff they organise there are crap. I’ve been part of the organising committee for, like, what? 6 orientation activities and they’re all crap. You only go to orientation if you want to meet chicks; there’re a lot of chicks in orientation.”

Yeah, chicks. One more reason for me to attend orientation; the ultimate chance to meet someone cute and petit, with dazzling eyes behind her glasses and an adorably shy demeanour. Oh, and pony-tailed hair. What’re the chances?

Sensing that I’m dangerously hovering back to severe indecisiveness, I took a plunge of courage and took it to my dad.

“Orientation? Didn’t you say you didn’t want to go?” he said, and without waiting for an answer, returned to his Heroes, Episode 4 (DVD collection set)

I thought it better than to bother him any longer and retreated to my room.

Without a decision.

So I did the unthinkable; the lame; the ridiculous:

I flipped a coin.

Got heads.

IMed Ling on MSN and told her that I’m going. I told her I’ll be meeting her at the station tomorrow.

Problem solved. I even have time to blog about it.