The Daily Grind: Fox Videos and Lettuce Edition
My first student loan payment is due this month. At a time when a pile of money that large should be called a mortgage, I'm feeling rather bad about it.
But then the Internet reveals the goodness of mankind by placing a bedazzled meme-to-be in my Facebook feed and the clouds lift just a tad.
Settling back down from that e-trip, I'm back in this same old rut called working adult life. It's a hard knock life. American pseudo-middle class is an odd place to live when you've got worries of the financial sort, a job, a wandering mind.
You're familiar, right? Neither rich nor poor, working class by default (cause, without the work, how do you keep up with all the people with things and pretty faces and prettier bodies?)
This is the reason a foxy video full of costume and onomatopoeia can willing infect our lives. We need distractions. Petty, shiny distractions. Colors. Lights. Three minute hits of Internet methamphetamine.
Biding our time between trends, just to keep our minds saturated with anything but the daily grind.
Such is life. Such has always been life.
Some people have babies right about now. Married, the spinning plates appear sufficiently balanced and the mind bored of routine. Ooh! Let's make a baby, dear! Imagine the cuteness! The fun! The lavish attention we shall receive! And, the gifts!
Except some of us were pricked with the baby fever antidote and it hasn't quite worn off. Us folk decide to make other types of babes.
My current kiddies are healthy, week-old cups of Romaine lettuce.
Must've been some Pinner who shared that you can regrow lettuce by submerging their cores in water. With a dash of intrigue and a twist of what-the-hell-else-do-I-have-to-do and a sprinkling of frugality, I gave it a go.
Look at me now, I'm on my second lettuce baby and couldn't be prouder.
These impromptu science experience make for an unexpectedly cheery welcome home after a long day of work and student loan self-pity.
But, the thing about growing other things - babies or lettuce or mold - is that it takes someone to start it. That's right, Billy Joel, I started this fire.
It was me who gave new life to these otherwise garbage-worthy bits. I cultivated something useful, something good. My life is productive after all!
This must be what less cynical see in the daily grind.
Instead of wishing the hours to pass in between piles of press releases, inevitable arguments over spending habits or distracting Norwegian tunes, I can watch the lettuce grow.
I can plant an entire salad on my windowsill.
What does the lettuce say as it finds a new home in an old Sprite bottle? Probably something other than "I feel bad about my bills."
As with the fox, we may never really know. But for now it's good company, and for next week it may be a good dinner. And, that's more than Ylvis can say about their music video.
But then the Internet reveals the goodness of mankind by placing a bedazzled meme-to-be in my Facebook feed and the clouds lift just a tad.
Settling back down from that e-trip, I'm back in this same old rut called working adult life. It's a hard knock life. American pseudo-middle class is an odd place to live when you've got worries of the financial sort, a job, a wandering mind.
You're familiar, right? Neither rich nor poor, working class by default (cause, without the work, how do you keep up with all the people with things and pretty faces and prettier bodies?)
This is the reason a foxy video full of costume and onomatopoeia can willing infect our lives. We need distractions. Petty, shiny distractions. Colors. Lights. Three minute hits of Internet methamphetamine.
Biding our time between trends, just to keep our minds saturated with anything but the daily grind.
Such is life. Such has always been life.
Some people have babies right about now. Married, the spinning plates appear sufficiently balanced and the mind bored of routine. Ooh! Let's make a baby, dear! Imagine the cuteness! The fun! The lavish attention we shall receive! And, the gifts!
Except some of us were pricked with the baby fever antidote and it hasn't quite worn off. Us folk decide to make other types of babes.
My current kiddies are healthy, week-old cups of Romaine lettuce.
 |
| A thing of beauty if a joy forever... |
Look at me now, I'm on my second lettuce baby and couldn't be prouder.
These impromptu science experience make for an unexpectedly cheery welcome home after a long day of work and student loan self-pity.
 |
| ...or at least until it's big enough to eat. |
But, the thing about growing other things - babies or lettuce or mold - is that it takes someone to start it. That's right, Billy Joel, I started this fire.
It was me who gave new life to these otherwise garbage-worthy bits. I cultivated something useful, something good. My life is productive after all!
This must be what less cynical see in the daily grind.
Instead of wishing the hours to pass in between piles of press releases, inevitable arguments over spending habits or distracting Norwegian tunes, I can watch the lettuce grow.
I can plant an entire salad on my windowsill.
What does the lettuce say as it finds a new home in an old Sprite bottle? Probably something other than "I feel bad about my bills."
As with the fox, we may never really know. But for now it's good company, and for next week it may be a good dinner. And, that's more than Ylvis can say about their music video.
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