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I am suffering from decision fatigue.  How do I know?  I swore at the gas station pump.  The F-bomb and everything…almost as if the pump was maliciously out to “get me.”

It started innocently enough.  I let my gas tank get dangerously low.  I knew I needed to pull into a gas station and soon. I chose the first convenient station in my path.  I am not one of those people who will make a U-turn and cut across traffic to save a penny a gallon.  If it involves only right turns, that’s my station, reg...