I found two plastic bags of moldy muffin scraps in my tote this morning.
They taught me an important lesson about creativity.
(OK, that’s a major stretch, but why not make old bread products a teachable moment? Plus, let’s face it, everyone’s “lessons” on the internet are pushing it.)
Here’s the backstory: I can’t snack these days.
It’s because of my Invisalign.
They’re these clear braces I got back in July. You can’t eat with them in, and you can’t just take them out, eat and pop them back in on the go. You have to brush your teeth and clean the trays or welcome to House of Yuck.
I thought that would ruin my sample game.
Yes, I do mean “game” like “skillz.” As in, “my sample game is TIGHT!”
But I also mean the challenge I build in to every walk I take around my neighborhood: Don’t come home till you find free food cut up on a tray.
Win, and win big.
Slices of olive bread or onion focaccia at 10am are low on the Win Scale, whereas a big hunk of sticky bun is like: cue slot machine jackpot sounds, cue Tom Cruise jumping on Oprah’s couch, cue sped-up footage of 1920s flappers wildly dancing the Charleston.
I thought that game-ified lifestyle would be suspended till early December, which is when I’m done with this dental madness. (In fact, I have Tuesday 12/6 marked “STRAIGHT TOOTH.”)
Well, GUESS. WHAT.
My game has reached a new level.
Or, my crazy has.
Now that I can’t take samples and eat them, here’s what I do instead.
When I go into Agata and Valentina, a gourmet grocery on University Place, I walk through the store as if I might buy something. This charade requires going through the freezing-cold seafood and meat section, OK? I pay my dues for free baked goods.
And then, just before the register, I grab up one, two, maybe three samples — piece of florescent-green basil muffin that shouldn’t exist but I take it anyway, piece of almond croissant with a slightly microwave-popcorn fake-butter taste, and — fingers crossed — the elusive sticky bun.
Then, I march past the check-out gals, say “good morning” in my most chipper, doing-nothing-wrong voice, and go through the swing door to the produce section, which says “Employees only.”
I grab a plastic bag like, Oh! I just realized I needed avocados, too.
Once I’ve exited the store, I shake the bag open and put my pastry loot in it for later, twirl it shut, and shove it in my tote bag.
As I walk away from the store, I prepare for a manager to run out of the store after me. It hasn’t happened, but in case it does, I’ve gone many times through this imaginary confrontation:
MANAGER: “Ma’am, excuse me! Ma’am!”
ME: Ignore. Keep walking. I don’t respond to “ma’am.”
MANAGER: “Excuse me! You can’t take samples for later.”
(As I pull out my right-side earbud)
ME: “I’m sorry, what? Why not?”
MANAGER: “They’re to be consumed in the store. And the sign says please take one. That’s one piece, not one stack. Also, we noticed that you do this almost every morning without buying anything.”
ME: “OK. One, I buy my milk there every week. Very expensive “farm-sourced” milk. B, I bought chicken salad yesterday and will probably buy more tomorrow because my husband’s been eating it too.
“…And C, how dare you. I’m not saving these samples for later. I’m gathering them for the lab.”
The lab.
I haven’t thought beyond this point, but that’s the defense that pops into my head each time I bag my samples: that I do spend money there, and that I could easily be taking these samples for lab testing. Maybe it’s to see whether they contain lead. Or to test the calorie count per slice of glazed donut. I don’t know, OK, I don’t really think I’ll be having this argument. But I do have it in my head every day, to be prepared.
When I get home, to avoid an argument that actually happens, I keep my carb swag hidden in my tote bag. If I put a plastic bag with scraps of breadstuff in it in any kitchen cabinet or drawer, Steven will find it and ask, “Um, hun, do you have ny objection if I throw out THESE 3 RIDICULOUS BITES OF STALE MUFFIN?”
And I can either scream “No, I’m going to eat those!” and wrestle them from him, or pretend I’m not crazy, let them go in the trash, and grieve.
So they stay in the tote bag till I’m ready to eat them.
Sometimes, a few days later when I’m fishing for my wallet, I find them — fuzzy with blue mold and creating their own steamy greenhouse effect inside the plastic bag. I swear I’ve found them breathing.
Is there a business or creativity lesson in this?
Sure. Those scraps in my tote bag are like ideas we save for later.
We think we’ll make use of them right away. Good shit! Hold on, gotta scribble that down. That’ll be a great blog post or something.
But we forget. And then, when we find them, they seem stale and ready for the garbage, without ever having been touched.
What a waste.
I do this all the time.
I feel good about writing down ideas just like everyone says to. But if I leave them too long in Evernote, which is a giant plastic bag for thoughts, they lose their freshness and go from bits of sticky bun to compost.
So here’s your takeaway:
Don’t stash your ideas away for too long. They’ll molder like food at the bottom of a tote bag.
Tip: If you’re afraid they’re pointless and not worth putting out there, shoehorn in a lesson about business or creativity.
Now you.
Do you find ideas that seemed so fresh at the time, now decomposing in your notes?
Do you have any insane rituals I should know about?
Do you like free food scraps?
How many calories do you think are in one full-diameter slice of donut? Like, a half inch thick and taken from right near the hole?
TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS.
Yes! I have many moldy pages in cyber storage (where I’m pretty sure fungus can’t grow, but still). Lots of musings that now seem more like a washed up old romance I wish I could forget about. Your stories are amazing! And never stale.
Well I’m glad you published your musings about Tahiti! That looks gorgeous. And so do you, but that’s no surprise since you’re paid to.
Laura –
Clicking on your link for the “rest of the story” is ALWAYS so worth it. I long to be a writer who has people salivating over the next morsel of her tantalizing, pastry-like story – where every crumb is lapped up and washed down with her “drive it home” moral.
Aw, that’s the nicest thing you could say! You get a donut. Or a slice of one.
My takeaway was that maybe I should get Invisiline also. Not only will it keep me from basically having breakfast at the free sample tray, but I might also rid myself of my own Nanny McPhee tooth. That, and stop waiting till the perfect moment, worrying about judgement, and future self cringing to put out material.
Also, everyone knows that free samples have no calories, even a full diameter slice of a delicious, bacon and maple glaze donut.
Invisalign is a major commitment but it works! My tooth is almost straight! It used to overlap, but today I stuck a piece of paper in the space between the teeth just because I could.
Laughing hard and out loud
Love you
Ok. yes. I’m guilty. I too have notebooks and phone memos and voice recordings of “brilliant” ideas that I never use or if I do remember them I get self-conscious about doing any of it.
But what I really want to comment on is your dare devil ways! I mean, my goodness how do you survive such adventure EVERYDAY! The stress cannot be good for you. If I were you I’d just take out the invisiline, put it in a plastic bag. Eat the samples in the store. Go home brush my teeth and pop that bad boy back in.
Just saying.
Thank you for acknowledging my bravery! Sometimes I do put the Invisalign in a plastic bag. Like at the farmer’s market, when I need to taste the apples before buying them. But I’m pretty precious about my “free teeth” time. I’m supposed to wear these things 22 hours a day. As if, but I try for at least 20.
I don’t remember if I commented about your Invisalign in an earlier post… but I also went through 1-1/2 years of plastic prison. The worst? When your friends surprise you with a birthday dessert at a restaurant and you’ve just brushed and flossed in the restroom and popped those babies back in. So much joy. (But yes, it’s worth it!)
I keep an idea file on Evernote but it’s more of a backup in case my mind goes blank. I always think my new ideas are best, so I hardly use those moldy ones, although I’ve used them in a pinch.
And my morbid fear of food poisoning and germs keeps me from eating any food scraps, even in my own house.
I think you might’ve! I was trying to remember who I knew who was so disciplined that she put her trays back in at the restaurant. It was you!
I do love seeing the results though. I can literally feel my teeth moving. How many things actually work like they’re supposed to?
The moldy ones stay in my evernote, too. Just like the fuzzy last bite of ice cream in the carton, which is still in the freezer in case I ever REALLY need ice cream and that’s all that’s left.
Oh Laura, every little thing you write is magic. It’s 9:30pm here (my bedtime, shut up), but when I saw your name in my inbox I dropped everything to read.
I have notebooks and Evernote files and iPhone notes and old receipts filled with random ideas. I do nothing with 99% of them.
….BUT, I also find that I have MORE ideas when I scribble everything down. They are muffin samples with the ability to self replicate. The act of giving them weight on a piece of paper gives my mind permission to produce more. Maybe because I’ve validated them somehow. If I told myself that my ideas only had value if I “produce something”, I’d never write anything down. And I’d like to think that excess creativity spills out of me at other times. I know I don’t have the time or desire or, yes, the productivity habits to mold and shape most of them, but allowing my crazy ideas to see the light (in that little way) has given more ideas permission to bubble to the surface. And yes, I’m mixing All The Metaphors, but forgive me, it’s past my bedtime.
xo
YOU are magic. I live for a Schembari comment on my blog.
And it’s true, writing them down is always worth it! I just wish I wrote them into full things more often and faster. And I wish muffins would self-replicate.
Yes. Yes. and Yes. I have to keep my food hidden too, otherwise, it will get devoured by a random child who thought surely because it was unattended it was unwanted.
I often find bits of ideas scribbled in my notebook. Great ideas that require elaboration to become fully-formed and valid. I see the potential in them like I do with my children. If I could just spend a little bit more time to develop them, guide them to fulfill all the potential I see in them, then just maybe they will grow into something that will support me when I’m older because I don’t think my kids will.
They are like children! Often, an idea grows big faster than I wanted it to and I remember how cute and manageable it was when it was small.
THANK YOU! I’ve got those ideas a’percolating, but zilch in the hopper (aka my “scheduled to publish” status). Time to throw out those moldy muffins and start fresh!
Yes! Or see if the center of the muffin is still good. Maybe part of those ideas still work.
I do the same thing – list after list after list of ideas but happily some haven’t gotten stale – they feel as fresh as the morning dew! I need to work better on this though and…there are ZERO calories in one full diameter slice of donut… In my world anyway… 🙂
Some stay fresh, it’s true! Like raisins.
And better to bag them than let them go. The brain saves nothing. At least mine doesn’t.