Overchoice is where a broad array of choices decreases satisfaction or quality of life. I think we’ve reached that point.
It takes me longer in the grocery store, not because I’m older, but because I’m dealing with too many choices. As a young mother with babies in washable diapers, I lifted down the biggest box of Tide powder detergent sitting on the shelf between Duz, Dreft and Ivory Snow. Today there is a whole row of Tide liquid in various sizes and mixes–Cold Tide, Tide ultra Oxy, Tide with Downy and various other combinations. I must look closely for the quarter-inch high letters “he” to be sure I am choosing one that will work in my front-loading, automatic washer.
It’s the same thing with most items on my list. I can’t just grab my preferred brand of canned tomatoes. I must bend down below the rows of chili ready, garlic and olive oil or other mixes.
In the old days, those who lived in town, turned on the spigot at the kitchen sink for a glass of chlorinated water from the community well. On the farm where I grew up, we had our own pump that tapped into an underground spring that gave us clean, good-tasting water. Today, there’s a section in the store for various brands of bottled water.
When I was a child, an ice cream cone was vanilla, chocolate or strawberry in the grocery store. My children chose from 31 flavors in the Baskin Robbins shop.
I hate picking up a mechanical item for Ken. No matter how well my husband preps me, a clerk always asks one more question than I have the answer.
Do you find it exasperating to make so many choices in everyday life?