Impulse control

After much debate, I’ve decided to stick with my Saturday plan with TV Guy. He seems like an affable fellow and in the end the idea of canceling on him AGAIN in favor of another guy was a step too far even for me. I mean, I’m an asshole but I have my limits. Besides, I really want to wear my new ankle boots but the heels are too high to wear around the Georgie. Yes, I really am that shallow.
More than anything, though, I realized that Geordie (hopefully) isn’t going to evaporate if I don’t see him this weekend.
All this to-ing and fro-ing and when-can-I-see-him-next-ing is pretty indicative of one of the massive driving forces in my life: the desire for instant gratification. No matter how logical the reasoning or how sound the argument in favour of patience and moderation, there is always an overwhelming voice of “But I WANNA!” thumping in my head. My approach to sex tends to be, in the immortal words of Fifty Cent, like a fat kid’s approach to cake.
There was a study done in the 1960s where a psychologist offered hungry 4-year-olds a marshmallow with the caveat that if he left them alone with the marshmallow and they didn’t eat it, he would give them another marshmallow. when he returned. 
Of course the study went on to show that those kids who waited to eat their marshmallow grew up to be more successful and well-adjusted. And I get it: if you wait for something, it will be all the sweeter when you finally receive it. Good things come to those who wait and all that jazz.
But frankly, I think those two marshmallow kids are boring. I would ALWAYS eat the marshmallow right away. Why would I wait? So some dude will maybe give me another marshmallow? How do I know he’s even telling the truth? Maybe some other kid will come along and swipe my marshmallow in the meantime! Take the sugar and run, that’s my motto.
Still, in the spirit of reforming my ways and being more fabulous and interesting and girl-about-town-ish, I’m not going to cave in to my baser instincts this time. So instead of trying to rejig my schedule so that I can eat the proverbial marshmallow as soon as possible (despite a head cold and lingering half-marathon exhaustion) I’m trying to be sensible about the whole thing. I will see TV Guy on Saturday and will see Geordie when my schedule next permits – no reshuffling or cancelling for his sake. 
Maybe it’s not too late for me to learn some impulse control. 
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