Sunday, February 10, 2013

Cat in a Box

What is reality? 

I have no idea.  It has something to do with a cat, a box, and poison.  The cat may or may not be dead.  I know what you're thinking, "Poor cat."  Unless you are Shiftless Husband and then you are thinking, "Good, there is potentially one less cat."  Both of you are changing the subject, which is rude, and missing the point, which is pretty easy because I don't understand it myself.


There is no cat.  Herr Schrödinger was creating a reductio ad absurdum, which, best I can tell, is fancy way to describe what happens when I overcook vinegar while watching a clown cry.  I didn't have time to read anything about it, so that's what it is.  And that's pretty much what I think reality is, too.  Whatever, or more often whomever, we choose to believe defines our reality.  

Case in point:  Every morning when I wake, before I put on my makeup--nope, not paying any royalties--before I get in the shower, I first look at my naked self in the mirror and then weigh myself on a scale that has the memory of a scorned teenage girl.  I'm not sure why I bother to look at myself in the mirror first because no matter what I see before the scale, the moment I turn around after the scale has spoken the only thing I see is a visual reflection of what the scale has just told me.  



Other than the two toes, this is an accurate representation of my Hobbit-esque calves and feet.  Boot shopping isn't pretty.
I am a pretty accomplished self-saboteur, but even I can't manage to gain 10 pounds while locked in a bathroom for 5 minutes.  Logically, I know I look exactly the same after the scale as before, but that isn't what I see.  I choose to believe the scale.  

Of course, this only works up to a point.  When you look in the box, the cat will either be alive or dead, regardless of what you have told yourself.  But in that precious moment before, you control the cat's existence and that feels good.  Even if you are allowing someone else's crazy reality to rule your life, you choose that person, which is much easier than choosing to ignore the nonsensical rantings of a discontented Teddy Ruxpin. (Yeah, I know.  I always thought it was Ruxbin, too.)    


So that's reality.  It is what I believe it is and therefore I'm right.  See how I've tied everything up in a nice little package?  There's a fancy phrase for that, too.  


Where have you been?


Around.  I really burned out having to post every week so I parted ways with some advertisers, not that I was making much.  I also tried to write what I wanted in addition to what other people wanted me to write and that was just the end of it.  I am going to try to post once a month now because we all have things to do other than my blog.  This is February's post.  Happy Valentine's Day.  Money is a little tight so I got you a possibly dead cat in a box.      

5 comments:

  1. I loved your musings on reality and Schrodinger in the first two paragraphs so much I read them twice! I pretty sure there's a layer of depth I missed despite this.

    Anyway, why choose to believe the scale? If there's freedom in defining your own reality, use it for good. You're beautiful! Done and done.

    (Easier said than done of course when living in the modern world means being bombarded by images that tell you you're NOT enough, NOT beautiful. My self concept was the highest it's ever been when I didn't have a TV. I like THAT reality.)

    Anyway, great post! I'll look very much forward to your now monthly contributions...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks! I guess I really didn't keep to that whole "schedule" thing...I love the idea of getting rid of the TV. I just have to convince the Shiftless Family.

      Delete
  2. I actually liked reading your writing content as it is very educational. I recommend you to submit blogposts even more frequently.
    Splendid

    ReplyDelete
  3. Just realized you are back. You are one of a kind, and I missed your voice. Sorry I missed Valentine's Day. Dead cats are my favorite.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Haha! Nothing perks up a room like dead cat talk.

      Not sure I can claim to be "back" yet, but flattering comments are always motivating.

      Delete

I love comments. They make me feel like I'm not talking to myself. I try to reply to all of them, eventually.