Yesterday, I made the tough decision to cancel my trip to LA for Gallifrey One. I have been getting over a cold, but I might have powered through–until the moment my temporary crown cracked in half.
It took me a while to make the call. I kept picturing the decision being about giving up this super fun weekend with fellow Doctor Who fans and lots of my favorite podcasters. But really, the choice was not super fun vs. staying home. Super fun was no longer on the table. The choice was me possibly dragging through a weekend with a cold and a molar ready to cause me extreme pain vs. staying home, not spending any more money, and not being stressed about getting myself ready for another trip.
There’s FOMO, and then there is what I’m calling FOGo, fear of going. The latter won out.
If life was a series of obvious decisions between something awesome and something not-quite-as-awesome, it would be easy. But in most cases, the choice is not clear. If it was, it wouldn’t really be a choice, would it?
(PS. Tonight, the new temporary crown cracked, and I am SO glad I am not scheduled to get on a plane tomorrow. Back to the dentist in the morning. I wish all my Whovian friends a terrific time, and I’m sorry I will miss it.)