Greetings!
Okay, so, we don't know which neurodivergency causes this (ADHD? ASD? Anxiety?) but maybe someone can weigh in on if this sounds familiar to anyone.
You know what the absolute worst part about shopping is? GREETING CARDS.
Greeting cards. You know them. Your big superstores tend to have an entire aisle of them, including seasonal holiday ones. Most of them follow an formulaic setup: a picture and a setup on the front cover, the punchline on the inside.
The punchline is never, ever worth the mental investment. Picture a card with a dog and "You know what they say..." on the front, and "... Every dog has its day! Happy Birthday :)" on the inside. Really?
So, if they're that awful, just ignore them, right? No.
Here's the thing. Our brain can't let that go. You can't just say "You know what they say..." and leave us hanging; it's like giving Roger Rabbit a shave and a haircut without the two bits. NO. TELL ME WHAT THEY SAY. I HAVE TO KNOW. I will lose sleep over this.
So for the sake of avoiding torturing myself for the rest of the day, I'll go ahead and pick up that card and read the punchline. It's bad and underwhelming, but at least now I know. That itch has been scratched.
But now we've fallen into their trap.
There's a whole aisle of these cards, after all. I put that one back, but my eyes dart over to the one next to it. It's in my field of vision and I can't not read it; it's like trying not to about pink elephants.
"On this special day...."
Oh no. The cycle has begun.
Every card we read only leads to more clickbaity setup covers. We read cards for ages, searching in vain for an escape. They're all awful and we're not having a good time. We want to go home but we can't. This is our life now. We're trapped in greeting card Hell. This is a cross-posted entry that originated from https://kjorteo.dreamwidth.org/476098.html. Please leave all comments there; I am no longer actively maintaining my LiveJournal blogs.
You know what the absolute worst part about shopping is? GREETING CARDS.
Greeting cards. You know them. Your big superstores tend to have an entire aisle of them, including seasonal holiday ones. Most of them follow an formulaic setup: a picture and a setup on the front cover, the punchline on the inside.
The punchline is never, ever worth the mental investment. Picture a card with a dog and "You know what they say..." on the front, and "... Every dog has its day! Happy Birthday :)" on the inside. Really?
So, if they're that awful, just ignore them, right? No.
Here's the thing. Our brain can't let that go. You can't just say "You know what they say..." and leave us hanging; it's like giving Roger Rabbit a shave and a haircut without the two bits. NO. TELL ME WHAT THEY SAY. I HAVE TO KNOW. I will lose sleep over this.
So for the sake of avoiding torturing myself for the rest of the day, I'll go ahead and pick up that card and read the punchline. It's bad and underwhelming, but at least now I know. That itch has been scratched.
But now we've fallen into their trap.
There's a whole aisle of these cards, after all. I put that one back, but my eyes dart over to the one next to it. It's in my field of vision and I can't not read it; it's like trying not to about pink elephants.
"On this special day...."
Oh no. The cycle has begun.
Every card we read only leads to more clickbaity setup covers. We read cards for ages, searching in vain for an escape. They're all awful and we're not having a good time. We want to go home but we can't. This is our life now. We're trapped in greeting card Hell. This is a cross-posted entry that originated from https://kjorteo.dreamwidth.org/476098.html. Please leave all comments there; I am no longer actively maintaining my LiveJournal blogs.