Decisions Decisions

It really is all about decision making, isn't it.  I mean, everything.  Everything is about making decisions, in a way.
Should I eat pasta, even if it makes me feel sick?
Should I walk down this street, a shortcut through a dangerous neighborhood? Or take the time to be safe.
Red shirt, or white shirt.
Stairs or escalator.

These decisions don't involve life or death.  Most, in fact, do not.
life is not Sophie's Choice.

So but why I write, now, is about making a decision on my part—to be a whiney bitch, or to deal with stuff head on.

I place myself in a situation where I believe I am helping someone. In so doing, I am a good person, or a goodguy. And hopefully will see my friend excel.

The down side is, what do I get.  To see my friend excel?
Do I really just want that, or am I hoping somehow by osmosis, success will somehow rub off onto me as a result?
Or, am I helping the friend, becuase I secretly want them to offer to help me with whatever whatever secret project I might have for myself.

So the decision I must make make is: figure out what I want, and get it. From this situation.  And if I want out, i should step up.  Make the decision, for my own sake. And get out.

But somehow, I'm not making a decision.  I'm taking a wait-and-see approach.  But is that really wise? Won't it somehow lead to anger.