Profound Stuff I Am Thinking About

I have deep thoughts, many many deep thoughts. Just this morning I had a revelation about cold cereal.

I don’t usually eat cold cereal in the morning, for stylistic reasons. If you have ever worked in an office then you know how disgusting it is when you have to look at your co-workers hunched over their keyboards eating breakfast, shoveling in the Egg McMuffin or the raw Pop Tart setc. Ew.  

And then there’s always the nit wit who has has her own bowl and spoon and box of Honey-Os in her desk and while you’re checking up on your morning emails, she’s slurping her damn milky nastiness not quite out of ear shot.  (This is probably the same person who puts on her make-up on the train ride into Grand Central Station and who uses her commute as  “Me” time to return all her personal phone calls.)

I’ve worked with too many people who have no boundaries when it comes to sloppy breakfast food and it’s turned me right off of cold cereal. But still, every now and then I decide that breakfast really is the most important meal of the day and I decide to start eating breakfast, and I get a box of Raisin Bran.

So the other day I’m pouring out some Raisin Bran and I’m thinking what I always think when it comes to Raisin Bran: I wish the whole box could be made up of the tasty little bits in the bottom of the bag.

Because: I think the tiny little bits that fall to the bottom of the bag are the best part of Raisin Bran, and I think that having to eat through the whole top layers of big hard-to-chew flakes in order to get to the last little broken-down tasty bits in the bottom of the bag is just the price you have to pay for  being a grown up in our Puritan work ethic way of life.

And out of the blue, like the happiest thought in my life, it came to me: Hey. Wait. I’m not a Puritan. And I have two fists!

And I lifted the plastic bag of Raisin Bran out of its cardboard box and I laid it on the counter and I hammered it flat with my dukes until the whole bag looked like a sachet of Raisin Bran pulp, an entire bag of tasty bottom-of-the-bag Raisin Bran bits.

I am a genius.

I can not believe  it’s taken me all this time — 54 years —  to figure out that once I buy a box of Raisin Bran I can do with it whatever I want.  And if I want to pound it until it is the consistency of sawdust No One Can Stop Me.

I plan to apply this new philosophy of life  (called “Anteater**)   in all the other areas of my life that are full of  the smallest, dumbest kinds of thoughtless conformity

 I don’t know where that is, yet, but I’m on the look out.

How about you?

Got any tips or stories of momentous mini-rebellions  in your life?

 

 

** I was going to call my new philosophy of life the “Perfectionism Never Made Anyone Immortal”   philosophy  of life, but I chose  “Anteater ” because of a poster (see below) that gets the same message across but also makes me laugh (I sincerely apologize to anyone who doesn’t think the “F” word is philosophical):

Oh man. I love that anteater.

9 comments to Profound Stuff I Am Thinking About

  • maryann

    Haahaahahha! Great post! Great poster!!

  • Yay! Great post – a rallying cry for all!!

  • Ann

    Just curious about progress on “That Damned France Book” and the cats in spring. Perhaps a bit more than cold cereal or anteaters. Only a thought.

  • Jennifer

    I was eating my raisin bran (brand new box) while I read this post. I actually don’t like cereal dust at the end of the bag. I could save all mine in a little baggie and mail it to you when I get enough for a serving. Hahaha.

    It is a great feeling to discover that you’re an anteater! Enjoy practicing the tactic with other small conformities!

    Jen

  • Deborah

    I had a similar head-smacker AH-HA moment a decade or so ago: The previous owners of the first house we bought had painted the upper windows of the screened-in porch. We used the porch a lot, and I would sit there sometimes and think surly thoughts about the previous owners for painting those windows. One day it occured to me — Hey! Wait a minute! I OWN this house!! I can do whatever I want to it, so I got a ladder and started scraping. All those years as a renter had rendered me mindless, I guess. Very liberating realization.

    I love the anteater poster, too. One of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten was a doggie T-shirt that says F^CK LEUKEMIA — the U is one of those ribbons. Sometimes ya just gotta strike that pose.

  • Rachel

    Tee Hee.

    I think the best realization for me was that after spending my childhood and way beyond believing that *when I grow up I can stay up as late as I want to,* I discovered that as an adult I AM THE BOSS OF ME and I can also go to bed as early as I want to.

    Sleep when you’re tired, eat when you are actually hungry, and make time to play EVERY day. Still working on that last one.

  • Janet

    Vivian, I look forward to your posts. Today is choice.

  • Kate

    I like to call it Life Is Too Short, such as Life Is Too Short for pale Post-Its or silver staples. Life Is Too Short not to get the Ziplocs with the actual zippers that make you smile when they click. -My anteaters tend to be consumers, obviously.

  • Sally

    The anteater poster is a gloriously more graphic depiction of something that has long been my mantra:

    You only live once, if that often.

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