Too many choices add to life's stress

   I am in the toothpaste aisle of the grocery store having a meltdown moment.
   All I want is a toothbrush. Simple hand-held thing with bristles that you shove around inside your chow-funnel to clean the debris and keep the dentist from lecturing you at your next scheduled cleaning.
   I have a coupon that I clipped out of the Sunday paper. Sensodyne toothbrush, so much off, and I don't even have to buy three.
   But I have run into a wall of toothbrush choices, and I am paralyzed by indecision.
   Do I want hard, medium or soft bristles? Pick-tip, whatever that means?
   Remember when all you had to do was choose between red, white, green or blue?
   Now they come with racing stripes. More color combinations on one toothbrush than a car painted in a Tijuana chop shop.
    Do I want a battery powered, electrified, or manual shift?
    I can have a Wave, a Zig-Zag, flat-head, tapered, gum-massager, side-picker, over the shoulder, upside down, inside out -- the choices are endless.
    And I can have the store brand, two or other off-brands, an Oral B or anything except, it seems, the Sensodyne for which I have a coupon.
    Let's move on to the case where they sell ice, where I have a choice between a big bag or a small one, with large cubes or cocktail crush.
    Which reminds me that  a scotch would go well right now.