Over Thinking

Don’t you just feel like Winnie the Pooh sometimes? I go around mumbling to myself, “Think. Think. Think.” And then I realize that I’m thinking too much and overanalyzing something that should be very simple.

Like some recipes. I was making my first batch of cinnamon rolls from scratch. Everything went perfectly until the recipe said “place cut side down.” I had my dough rolled up and I had sliced the roll into one-inch pieces and all the pieces were standing up side by side waiting for further instructions. And now it said “place cut side down.” And I thought and thought and thought. I pondered the book from a distance, hands on hips, wondering why they would put this particular instruction in and that I must be missing something. Something really important. I decided that the book was trying to talk to some moron idiot simple-minded twit that didn’t know a cut side down from a cut side up. I’m looking at the roll of pinwheels thinking (because of that silly instruction, that was put in there for SOME good reason, surely) that there must be a “right side” and a “left side” and they want one of those sides down. But which one? It was way too much thinking. The idiot is the person who puts the pinwheel standing up in the pan, hoping that by some miracle it will flip itself on the flat side (either side will do) of the pinwheel. Good grief!!!! In fact, the idiot was the author. How ELSE would you put a cinnamon roll in the pan??? I ask you?

Or those tags on pillows and mattresses that say something like “under penalty of law do not remove this label.” I used to ponder that one too when I was little and sent to my room for my naps because I was tired. This commandment was said by my mother who promptly fell asleep on the couch totally exhausted after I don’t know what while I was still burning with energy after beating pans all morning long, and then finding Mom’s matches and lighting them one by one and dropping them in the dog food to see if the dog food would catch fire. How tiring is THAT? So I’d go to my room and contemplate the tags on my pillow and then after further scrutiny and research would find the same tag on my mattress and I had to really work to rip that tag off to see what a penalty of law was.

I’m still waiting.

And then there’s the form from the State whose first question was: Can you read this? (with a Yes or No box)

How do you answer that?

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