Be All That You Can Be. You Can Do It.

[Interesting life development: Since blogging, yesterday, about my insane level of irritability, the irritability seems to be lessening. Bizarre. It is likely due to either my acknowledgement of it – and conscious effort to reduce it – or the embarrassment factor involved in baring my unreasonableness to all. Either way, it’s an improvement.

(It is also possible, I suppose, that taking yesterday off from exercising might have played a small part, particularly as I have been suffering from muscle fatigue and a bit of a tweaked knee. But that’s a whole different topic….)]

This morning, as I was contemplating my already decreasing irritability, I had a brilliant idea for making my way through the world today. I would – I decided – coach myself all day long only in commercial jingles. Excited, I launched my experiment immediately. As I began to get ready for work, the canine assumed her usual position at my heels, causing me to nearly trip every time I turned around.

“Don’t get mad,” I counseled myself, cheerily, “get Glad.” Resolutely, I ignored the canine as I continued my preparations, only once stopping to suggest – kindly – that she go lie down in another room.

Heading into the office, rather than allow the traffic (and poor driving) to bother me, I decided to practice acceptance. Unfortunately, the jingles that came to mind did not seem to relate well to the advice I needed. I made do the best that I could.

“You can take Salem out of the country,” I told myself, sagely, “but you can’t take the country out of Salem.”

It did not take long for me to realize the flaw with my plan. My brain has – of late – not been functioning properly. As it turns out, there are valid reasons for this, and – when compounded, as they have been – they could likely explain quite a bit of my irritability as well. My current mental state (while improving) does not allow for the conscious recall of many useful bits of knowledge like commercial jingles. On the contrary, it appears that the jingles are now rising – unbidden – into the forefront of my mind, whether they apply or not.

“Double, double your refreshment,” sings my mind, happily, as a co-worker hands me some files to proof. “Double, double your de-ligh-igh-ight-ment.”

I was so startled by this cheerful and out-of-place melody that I missed what my co-worker is saying and had to ask her to repeat it. I suppose – now that I’m reflecting upon it – that the experience was, therefore, “doubled.” Hmmm. Devious mind.

Later, as I lift my cup of yogi tea to my mouth, my mind once again erupts.

“The best part of waking UP” it bellows, enjoying this activity FAR too much, “is Folgers IN YOUR CUP!”

Now I am starting to feel disturbed. It is almost as if the marketing tunes have taken over my untrustworthy mind. On the plus side, the experiment seems to have quite a cheering effect on my overall mood. In fact, I think that this focus on commercial jingles might be encouraging an overall feeling of goodwill. As I surveyed the cubicle farm outside my own little square, my mind began a soft serenade.

“I’d like to buy the world a Coke,” it began, earnestly. I stopped it in its tracks. We do NOT support coke, I reminded it, due to the high fructose corn syrup.

“Always Coca-Cola” it rebutted in a sing-song manner, undeterred.

I sighed mentally. This was getting creepy.

In some ways, I am beginning to feel that another being has begun to occupy my mind. Even now, as I type, I can hear an ongoing song in the corner of my mind.

“Charlie says,” it chants, “I love my Good & Plenties. Charlie says, they really ring a bell.” It goes around and around, broken only by an occasional foray into “My dog’s better than YOUR dog, my dog’s better than YOUR-OR-OR-ORS.”

I suppose that this mental takeover is – in actuality – real. These jingles – and all marketing tools – have been constructed to have this effect. They have utilized scientific knowledge to manipulate our own minds, to capitalize upon the areas of our consciousness AND unconsciousness that we have difficulty controlling, but that will drive us to certain behaviors. Even as a marketer, and someone with an unusual interest in understanding psychological manipulation, I am not immune. I find the repercussions of this truth frightening.

On the other hand, I’m also no longer irritable. “After all,” my mind asks, “why bother? “Instead,” it suggests, “we could: jump in, just enjoy the ri-i-i-ide…da, da, da, da, da…..”