It’s getting to that time in the semester again where my brain is too fried to write about any events of actual importance, so I’ll have to settle for making vague connections to the things I actually have going on (bear with me).

I’m at a point in my life and academic career where I need to make some serious decisions. Where am I going to live when I leave ISU? How soon do I need to apply for financial aid? How will I trick my graduate cohorts into becoming my friends?

With all the ifs and maybes, instead of moving forward and making progress, I find myself stalling out and avoiding any decision-making at all.

It comes as no surprise to me that this is my reaction. I’m definitely a big fan of avoidance behaviors. If I don’t acknowledge the problem, it will just go away, right?

Actually, if I ignore the problem I’ll probably end up homeless in Chicago with no way to pay for the graduate program I’m heading into. That’s not exactly an appealing option.

Still, I was (and may still be) at a loss for how to address my problems.

I won’t act like I had some amazing epiphany; it’s only after quite a bit of thought that I’ve forged a metaphorical tie between my real-life problems and the mundane activities of this past weekend, but I was fortunate to gain some insight through the simplest activity.

This weekend I headed just out of town to Swore Farms to pick up a pumpkin. Choosing from the hundreds of available pumpkins shouldn’t have been one of the more challenging decisions of my weekend, but I still found myself struggling to just pick something.

What if it didn’t have the perfect surface for carving? Or maybe some sort of defect would prevent me from using the insides to make (my first ever!) homemade pumpkin pie?

Again, the ifs and maybes left me hemming and hawing until finally I saw one option, grabbed it and didn’t look back.

For pumpkin picking, this tactic doesn’t really have any dire consequences. For bigger decisions like graduate school, housing and more, closing your eyes and picking the first option your finger lands on isn’t really the best form of planning.

I know I probably sound silly, I really do, but I feel like such a simple decision gave me the opportunity to view my important decision-making in a different and necessary light.

Despite what I want to tell myself, I haven’t been putting off these big choices because I’m too busy, too tired, too unprepared or too anything-else except scared.

Making a big decision can mean a big change, and for some people that’s an exciting, welcomed event. I’m not one of those people.

I’m honestly pretty terrified of leaving ISU and the people and places I’ve grown accustomed to over the past few years. But the longer I wait to plan my future, the closer I put myself to unhappiness and a legitimately bad situation.

I may not have the perfect plan yet, but acknowledging the problem is the first step to a solution, and eventually picking the perfect pumpkin—er, plan.

Nicole is a senior majoring in Mass Communication.