Four Minutes and Fifty Nine Seconds

Whenever you are struggling to make a decision, just remember the simple ‘five by five’ rule! The self proclaimed self-help guru said on his vlog as he holds up an open palm. If it doesn’t matter in five years, don’t spend five minutes thinking about it!

‘I’ll just spend four minutes and fifty-nine seconds worrying about things then.’ I joke with my goldfish, swimming nonchalantly in its bowl. It is my only company while Jaime is out either working, socialising or partying.

I complained about how little we see of each other last Tuesday night after dinner. How lonely I am in our big, suburban home.

‘How about we get a cat? It can keep you company while I’m out.’ Jaime offered as a solution.

‘Nah, cats are like a twenty year commitment.’ I said.

‘I don’t think it’s the cat that you’re worried about committing to.’

We argued about it into the early hours of the morning. The resolution was to get a goldfish. I only agreed after googling that their average lifespan in a fish tank is three years.

I stand in front of the vegetable section of the supermarket, eyes digesting the different carrot varieties. There are an infinite number of options. Dutch, Juicing, Organic, Purple, White. That famous Australian milk commercial rings in my mind. I just want carrots that taste like real carrots!

Jaime asked me to grab some on my way home from work. We’re entertaining friends tonight and apparently garlic roasted carrots are ‘crucial’ for a perfect meal.

But after filtering through the different varieties, there doesn’t seem to be the normal orange kind. And then I see it, an empty box with a tag reading ‘fresh carrots’. My brain fogs. I don’t have time to go to another supermarket. I text Jaime.

THERE ARE NO REGULAR ONES. SECOND PREFERENCE?

I send a photo. Instant reply.

JUST PICK WHATEVER X

My chest constricts and my breathing stops. But what if I choose the wrong one and ruin the crucial element? Ruin dinner? I send another text. After a few minutes I get a response.

YOU’RE A GROWN UP, CAMERON. I’M GETTING SICK OF MAKING DECISIONS FOR YOU. JUST PICK ONE OR DON’T COME HOME.

The carrots loom before me and the fog grows more dense. I start a timer for four minutes and fifty-nine seconds and type ‘dutch carrots’ into the search engine.

Under the shade of a tree at the park, I watch the clouds drift across the sky. My grade two teacher once had my class lay in the middle of the oval to admire the white, fluffy bodies of water. She claimed it was good practice for calming the mind.

‘Alright kids! Pick a cloud.’ The memory of Mrs Robinson sounds. I search the field of blue and select a cloud that looks like a dove in mid flight. It soars in the midst of the large expanse of blue, away from all of the grey clouds huddled together in the distance.

‘Now close your eyes, and after thirty seconds open them and find your cloud again.’

I close my eyes and begin to count.

‘Come on, Cameron! We don’t go out anymore!’ Jaime said while hurriedly removing work clothes and throwing them into the laundry basket. A basket full of clean clothes that I had just recently washed and folded.

‘I don’t go out anymore. You go out all the time.’ I said while saving the lavender smelling clothes from being soiled.

'Not all the time! Please, it’ll be fun!’

Jaime flicks the shower on and stands there, naked, feeling the water temperature. A body I would do anything for, and Jaime knows it. That’s why these conversations always take place in the shower.

‘I don’t know, it’s pretty last minute.’

‘Come on, be spontaneous!’

That word. That dreadful word that pulls at my heart and turns my stomach. I stop admiring Jaime’s butt and find my own, hollow eyes in the mirror.

‘You know I struggle with making decisions, Jaim.’

‘This is ridiculous. We never go anywhere because of your anxiety.’

I told Jaime I would think about it.

Three minutes left on the timer and the choice has become even harder. If I pick the dutch ones, I’m buying expensive miniature carrots. If I choose the purple, I’m making a political statement against the Dutch Revolt. If I go with organic, I’m a sucker paying more money for food that may still be covered in pesticides.

Two minutes and thirty seconds.

When I open my eyes the dove has become distorted and is dissolving into the sky. The other clouds are closing in and growing darker by the second. The weather forecast said that today was meant to be bright and sunny. Today was meant to be a good day.

‘We can’t control the clouds, exactly like we can’t control our thoughts,’ I recall the words of my grade two teacher, ‘But we can close our eyes and hope for them to pass.’

A drop of rain falls on my hand. I squeeze my eyes shut and knot my fingers into the grass to brace for the on pour.

I said yes after four minutes and fifty-nine seconds of deliberating. This news is received with an enthusiastic hug and that wet, naked body pressed up against me. I withdraw from it slightly.

‘What’s wrong?’ said Jaime. There is no concern in those glowering hazel eyes. Only an accusatory stare that makes my armpits and palms instantly perspire.

‘Nothing.’ I said too quickly. I smile and kiss the space between those eyes to try and release their tension. Jaime’s jaw sets.

‘I’m sick of you making me feel like a bad partner over your issues.’

‘But I haven’t said anything, Jaim.’

Anxious people make bad decisions, so make less of them!

‘Well, I already eat prawn dumplings for lunch everyday, that’s one less decision a day, right?’ I said to the goldfish who stares back at me. Mouth opening and closing.

Ask the waiter for their recommendation instead of reading the menu. Have toilet paper delivered to your house monthly so you don’t have to remember to buy it.

‘If he thinks it's going to take less than five minutes to decide what toilet paper to buy, he’s kidding himself.’ There is brand, length, ply and number of rolls to consider. Plus I’ll have to calculate how many toilet squares we use per day. Order too little and there might not be enough toilet paper for emergencies. Order too much and it’ll be spilling from the cupboards.

‘At least you don’t need toilet paper.’ I said to goldfish as it syphons through the rocks for food and its own waste.

A minute left on the timer and I still haven’t made a decision. I’m now researching the origin of the colour orange and how it influenced the colour of modern carrots.

I wish I hadn’t told Jaime that there were no regular carrots, then I could have lied and said I had forgotten to stop by the supermarket. That’s better than admitting that I'd let my anxiety consume me once again. There will be no more Jaime and I if I return without carrots. I just need to make a choice.

The fog clears and I pick up the purple carrots and storm toward the checkout. They have the most antioxidants. And it’ll be a great conversation starter with our friends. I do have all of this newfound knowledge on the history of carrots now. Unless the colour weirds out our friends and they choose not to eat it? Then Jaime will be embarrassed and say that I ruined the whole night. And what if our friends don’t want to come around anymore for dinner because we serve weird food?

I whirl back around.

Maybe I need to spend more than five minutes making this decision, because it could matter in five years.

I throw the purple carrots back into their box as the cloudiness returns. Thirty seconds. I close my eyes.

‘When we stop trying to do something that can’t be done. It frees up energy to accomplish things that can be done.’ Mrs Robinson’s voice echoes in my mind.

I open my eyes and the clouds haven’t cleared. They’ve grown more dense and dark. The rain starts falling now. I’m cold. I’m so, so cold. I’m up on my feet and I’m running. Running away from the clouds, but they’re everywhere. I’m surrounded.

My breath thickens and my legs burn, but I don’t stop. My heart beats ferociously against my rib cage and strange patterns dance before my eyes. I stumble and my body finds the ground.

I endure the rain as I struggle to breathe.

Rather than browsing the menu at the restaurant, I ask the waiter for their recommendation. Jaime takes this as a positive sign. A sign that I am being spontaneous. The wine flows and Jaime’s hand is constantly moving between topping up our glasses and rubbing my thigh.

When we arrive home, Jaime kisses me and whispers sweet nothings in my ear. A combination of wine and cheap cigarettes fill my mouth and nose. It's all too much. My stomach twists and I push Jaime away.

‘I’m not in the mood.’

‘Why? Are you anxious?’ Jaime said while trying to undo my pants and biting my lip. Words slurring.

‘Yeah, a little bit.’

‘Far out Cameron, I’m fed up with your bullshit. You just need to get over it.’ Jaime said, still grappling with my belt.

‘It’s not something you just get over, Jaim.’

‘Well you need to, you’re bumming me out.’

My pants fall to the floor and Jaime begins working my top. I guess I can make Jaime happy for a few minutes.

Don’t put the happiness of others before your own! The guru points down the barrel of the camera. I feel his finger poke my chest. A prickling sensation ebbs and flows from the place he touched me. Spreads through my body like a storm.

The goldfish spits a rock in my direction. I exit the guru’s video and type ‘how to get rid of of an unwanted goldfish’ into the search engine.

‘I don’t want to, Jaim.’ I pull my pants back up as I swat away beseeching hands.

‘Are you not attracted to me anymore, Cameron? Are you falling out of love with me?’

‘I love you so much. So much that it hurts me to know that I’m bringing you down.’

‘Oh, here we go again,’ the eye-roll slaps me, 'It’s always about you and your feelings. How about how I feel?’

‘What? But I just said-,’ Jaime holds up a hand to silence me.

‘I can’t deal with this for much longer, Cam. You’re making me extremely unhappy.’

I close my eyes to make the haziness pass.

‘I’m trying, Jaim. I really am.’

‘Well, you’re not trying hard enough.’

The keys rattle. The door slams. The car engine starts.

Thunderclap. My eyes snap open. Lightning illuminates the clouds and and the roar of the thunder electrifies my core. I feel like dancing. Singing. Twirling.

The rain stops, the clouds part and the sun shines down. The warmth feels so good on my skin. I can breathe again. The storm is over. It’s over.

The alarm chimes. I open my eyes.

My mind is clear.

I’ve made my decision.

I walk out of the store empty handed.