Help me. My brain is stuck in a loop of random thoughts.
I blame the myriad of mindless tasks I’ve been doing from putting up Christmas decorations to organizing my basement. It’s allowed my mind to float from one aimless thing to another.
For instance, as I shoved my holiday Snow Villages back into their Styrofoam prisons I started thinking about carnations. When did the flower get such a bad rap? Today they’re the Crocs of flowers. You see them and go yuck.
I checked in with a florist friend of mine and he validated this by sharing that one of the first things customers say to him when ordering flowers is “anything but carnations.” What happened to this once mighty flower that was the shining star in my prom wristlet corsages of the 1980s?
Well apparently once the carnation became a “grocery store flower” it was branded as “low class” and it began to rapidly fall out of favor.
On one dating site a romantic prospect giving you carnations makes “the top five reasons when to dump someone.” It was right up there with cheating. Imagine that – a bouquet of carnations is almost as bad as someone cheating on you.
This made me so sad I went out and bought some carnations – at a grocery store.
Then while I was in my basement in holiday bin hell I went deep on all those home organization shows you see on TV. You know the ones where a team comes in and totally takes someone’s kitchen or even garage and turns it from a dumpster filled with lidless Tupperware and expired dog food bought in bulk from Costco to an organizational paradise where everything is labeled in glass jars and sorted by color.
As I was bubble wrapping my fragile ornaments, I couldn’t stop thinking about what the expiration date is on those organized havens. I mean if you don’t change someone’s behavior to clutter, I’m guessing that those beautiful spaces last maybe a couple of months.
Turns out I was being way too generous. I contacted a professional organizer and she said days – as in when she comes back with one more glass canister for coffee pods the room is on its way back to being a hot mess. Is it wrong that tidbit made me feel a wee bit superior that at least I was in my basement with bins and a label maker?
Another thing totally blowing my mind is some research I read where anyone over the age of 45 is “cautioned against shoveling snow.” WTH?
I totally understand how this study could bring joy to a lot of people looking for an excuse to not clear their driveways. But I love to shovel snow. I even have a special snow shoveling hat and my favorite snow shoveling music.
I also have three different snow shovels based on the kind of snow I’m shoveling. There’s my wet snow shovel, the powdery snow and then the more ice than snow shovel. It’s a very Zen experience shoveling snow and also gratifying. I mean who doesn’t like a clean driveway?
But now my whole snow shoveling mojo is messed up – forever.
Even if I give the study a gloved finger and go ahead and shovel, I’ll be worried the whole time that I’m about to have a heart attack. Because now I know that frigid temperatures can raise blood pressure and constrict my coronary arteries and then when you add in the exertion it’s say hello to cardiac event.
Just thinking about this gave me chest pains. Oh well, at least that stopped my random thoughts. Now, I’m just focused on not dying and wondering if I would want carnations at my funeral.