A reflection on life's choices

A Thursday composition:

What of the choices I've made to this date?
Were the really my own, or just simply fate?
All the decisions I've made, from birth through today
Some good and some bad, some others, I can't say.
And yet here I stand, where decisions abound.
Will I ever be sure that my choices are sound?

Flour, cayenne, spinach, or wheat?
Chicken or steak? White or dark meat?
Plain cheddar cheese or monterrey jack?
What about beans? Charro, refried, or black?
What for your salsa? Mild, medium, or hot?
Sour cream? Lettuce? With rice or not?

But I'm not alone, in my quest for a snack
A burrito artist will keep me on track
He guides me methodically, on down the line
But despite his presence, the choices are mine.
It is I that must live with the resulting creation
Whether it pleases the palate, or gives indigestion.

My taste buds are nervous before the first bite.
Will the various flavors come together just right?
Were all of my choices one big waste of time?
If so, what's the point of having waited in line?
It's put in perspective by a snort from my wife.
"It's a Freebird's burrito, not 'This Is Your Life!"