Thursday, April 28, 2011

Self Trickery

A friend of mine brought me a box of marshmallow Peeps today. I was their third home, as my friend got them from someone else who also didn't want to eat them. I hadn't eaten a Peep in years, so I unwrapped them and pulled one away from its squishy, hot pink siblings. It was awful. It tasted vaguely like chalk rolled in sugar. Thoroughly disgusted, I tossed the box of Peeps in my desk drawer.

A bit later in the day I decided to try eating another Peep. 'Perhaps they are an acquired taste,' I thought as I bit off its head. Nope. No such luck. The second one was every bit as nasty as the first one. I was now torn - I didn't want to throw it away because that would be wasteful, but at the same time I really wasn't looking forward to three more bites of marshmallow torture. So I did what I've done several times in the past...

... I invented a daydream.

Whenever faced with an unpleasant task, I commonly make a game out of it to make it seem more bearable. I either A.) pretend I'm saving the world, B.) pretend I'm being paid to do it, and/or C.) pretend I'm doing something impressive.

"I am being held hostage in a terrorist camp, and I overheard them talking about dropping a nuclear bomb on the Midwest United States. There is a reverse launch key inside this Peep. If I can bring myself to eat the Peep, I will be able to get the key and save America!"

"I am on Fear Factor, and they will give me one million dollars if I eat this Peep while being dragged behind a bus going 90 mph. I must eat the Peep in ten seconds so I can pay off my student loans!"

"This Peep is actually a naturally occurring, deadly poisonous plant bulb. However, I have spent my entire life becoming immune to Peeps, and I must demonstrate my amazing ability to my peers! Nom nom nom!"

This coping mechanism also applies itself very well to less-than-pleasant dog related tasks. For instance, scooping poop in the backyard becomes a search for pieces of valuable uranium in a post-apocalyptic zombie world, bathing a filthy dog becomes a magical ritual that will turn a Wild Beast into a loyal companion, and walking the dogs in a rainstorm becomes a heroic search for.... well, someone important.

I still don't like Peeps.

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