Across The Mirror

He paused in front of the mirror, halfway through combing his hair.

"Looking good, boy. She won't know what hit her."

One more pass of the comb, a little more lift to the strand falling over his forehead. He stepped back and took himself in, head to toe.

"If your mother could see you in a tie," he said, a grin spreading across his mouth. He held the tie up and studied it for a moment.

"Ah, right, I need my tie pin too."

He dug through the drawer, found the double chain pin swinging on its clasp, and fastened it to the tie with care.

Then his eyes landed on the pocket square. He found one that matched and tucked it in just so. Something still felt missing, but what. He added a shimmering vest under the jacket.

"Ohh, man." He could hardly keep the grin off his face.

"This jacket's not it."

He pushed the hangers aside and pulled out the green jacket with red carnations across the shoulders that he'd bought last month. In front of the mirror he was floating.

"This is it," he kept saying. "This is definitely it."

He wanted one more look at himself.

"Everything's set, buddy."

He checked his pockets, keys, wallet, ready. He turned toward the door, he could leave now. Then, on a sudden impulse, he turned back. He opened the closet, grabbed his blue scarf, and tucked it under the jacket collar. He gave his shoulders a shake and let the fringe swing. He felt the urge to howl like a wolf, and he did.

He shut the door behind him and stepped out. A few stairs down, he smacked his palm to his forehead. He needed a red carnation to introduce himself with, he'd even bought one and set it aside. He ran back, dove into the kitchen, opened the fridge. There it was, red and waiting. He pinned it to his lapel. Now he could go.

Everything's set, right down to this?

We can't know if the red carnation ever reached the beautiful woman he had in mind. But if this man, so sure he'd covered every detail, ends the night disappointed, we'll all feel for him a little.

Every one of us has been that man once. Not with a tie pin or a scarf, but with an offer. A program with three versions. A service with five different entry points. A message trying to speak to everyone who might ever need it.

It feels like readiness. It feels like nothing's missing.

But somewhere in that room, someone else is standing at the door, trying to figure out which detail is actually the one that matters. And if they can't tell, they don't decide. They just leave.

If you have more than one direction pulling at you right now, the Decision Sprint→ helps you find out which one should actually lead.