Rebecca Moore has a dilemma over two options both with cons but also plenty of pros

I have just made a massive life decision. I can’t go back on it and I’m still not sure whether it’s correct.

I had to decide whether to stay in Oxford or move to LA and frankly, it’s left me a wreck.

My nails are either chewed and fraying or weak and breaking. My hair is lank and dragged unceremoniously behind my ears from where I’ve been continually thrusting my face toward the computer screen and researching as much information as is humanly possible on the options. What I really need is a website promising to maketherightchoiceforme.com.

The truth is that there is no right choice: both available options were promising with a different set of pros and cons. Whichever route had been chosen I would’ve regretted not choosing the other. And I realise how incredibly lucky I am: I had a choice between two exciting and positive options – neither of which would’ve cost me much more than a plane ticket. Oh, woe is me, indeed.

I’ve spent the afternoon listening to the likes of Edith Piaf’s Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien and Sinatra’s I Did It My Way. I realise that I’m turning into a parody of myself, like Cher.

I needed that ridiculous reassurance from ‘Ole Blue Eyes that no matter what, when I look back, I will be able to say that I was strong and I did it my way. No! I will declare. I regret nothing! NOTHING. Of course, it would come out as a whimper at the moment but give me time.

Kierkegaard said that life can only be understood backwards but it must be lived forwards. That clever, and slightly morose, cove was right. Sorry to get all philosophical on you, but this is what indecision and manic stress does to a gal.

You should see my forehead: I’ve gained three wrinkles just from the effort of thinking this all through. I keep catching sight of myself concentrating in the window glass and realise my frown is making a Klingon of me.

Decisions, it turns out, are not a girl’s best friend.

Incidentally, I’m staying in Oxford after all. The less exciting option, I guess, depending on how you gauge excitement. I regretted it immediately. And then I don’t regret it. And then I do.

My nails are now all halfway down to the quick. I am so hungry that I’m beyond hunger. I will keep going backwards and forwards on this – probably for the next 50 years. I could almost convince myself that to never have choice again would be preferable. And then I pinch myself and realise how very spoilt I must be.