Everybody got hamsters
Prepare yourselves. I am about to give you a glimpse into the inner workings of my brain. For some, this will be scary beyond measure and far too much information. For others, there will be nods of understanding and empathy. Here we go.
A couple of decades ago, my husband heard a comedian, Ahmet Soydan, discuss the differences between men’s and women’s brains. He likened them to boxes. Men have boxes all over their brain (the car, work, kids, hunting, etc.), but they don’t touch. If a man is having a conversation, he will open that subject’s box, and when it’s over,he will carefully close that box and put it away, ensuring it never touches the other boxes.
However, the comedian said that women don’t have boxes; our brains are a big ball of wires, and everything is connected to everything. Our money is connected to our car, which is connected to our job, which is connected to our kids, and so on. All driven by energy called emotion. And he makes zapping noises when he’s explaining women’s brains firing.
Soydan also says that men have something he calls the “Nothing Box.” It’s their favorite box, which explains why they can do something completely brainless for hours. Like fishing. Also, in my husband’s case, troll the internet for random items at auction (like our THIRD rusting and ancient Majestic Stove – don’t get me started) while Gunsmoke is chirping on the TV.
I take issue with the ball of wires analogy. It’s too simplistic. I prefer the visual of hamsters running around in my brain. Forget the wheel – there’s no time to get on a wheel, and there are way too many hamsters in too small a space. I’m going to give you an up-close look at my hamsters in fully caffeinated and crazed mode. Also known as last weekend.
I’ll try and make this short. Mike had knee surgery last Thursday and is in a locked brace to keep his leg straight for six weeks. This means no driving. We are also leaving for three weeks in Texas to visit the boys a week after surgery, and planning to bring the boat (see the fishing reference above) 24 hours south. That means not only will I be micromanaged for my substandard boat hauling the entire way down (Mike doesn’t passenger well), but we will also be stopping every 90 minutes so he can walk around the truck three times to lower the risk of blood clots. Cue the hamsters.
In my quest to avoid a homicide, I consult with my fellow hamster carriers about options. We decide that I should gut it out with Mr. Backseat Driver to Denver where I will trade him for son Nick in an airline swap. Then Nick can help drive the boat to Texas without the clot busting stops.
This quiets the hamsters, but only temporarily. I look at the weather (it’s an affliction) and see that 4” of snow plus wind are expected on Thursday, the day before we’re supposed to leave. With the boat. The news sets the hamsters on a rampage that plays in my head something like this: GAH!*SNOW!*WIND!*BOAT!*YELLING!*HYDROPLANING!*MORE YELLING!*PINEY CREEK HILL!*BOAT FLIPS OVER!*HYSTERIA!*CLOT STOP!*NOT GOING TO MAKE FLIGHT!* And so on like a ticker tape of horror. None of this covers the hamsters that are running the ever-growing To Do list for someone leaving for three weeks. Are you getting a sense of this?
I call my calm and rational friend. I anxiously explain the issues in a stream of consciousness. She listens, asks clarifying questions, and says the thing you’re all thinking but haven’t said out loud. Leave. The. Boat. Here. Besides the encroaching weather, who knows what it will be like when I start to head home. I make the management decision – the boat stays here. You have never seen so many small and fuzzy rodents stop, take a collective deep breath, and just melt into each other. It was a miraculous feeling.
So for all of you out there with hamsters, you’re not alone. And for those of you who are hamster-less (and probably have a Nothing Box. You know who you are.), I hope this gives you some insight into why our eyes are crazed, our questions are coming at you like machine gun fire, and we can’t JUST RELAX. The hamsters won’t have it. They don’t have a resting state when there’s this kind of four-alarm fire. Maybe hand us a glass of wine, ask us to describe the problem, and inquire if we want a solution or just to be heard. That approach melts even the most frantic hamsters. I’ve also heard some great things about uninterrupted sleep, but the To Do list hamsters haven’t approved that yet.
Happy holidays, hamsters.