The glory of menial tasks

Tonight I conquered Mt. Laundry, and as I was folding, my brain quietly worked out my writing melancholia and what I think may be behind it. Who knew that fretting over wrinkled t shirts was so helpful?

Of course, many people know this. Your brain likes to quietly work on problems, not be attacked constantly by your stupid, conscious mind.

Your conscious mind is Pinky, and your brain is, well, Brain. It works best without Pinky badgering it all the time, NARFing and crying. So when your babbling conscious mind is thinking, “Fold the shirt, experience guilt at wrinkles because the clean clothes were crumpled in the hamper for so long, resolve not to let it happen again while secretly knowing it will happen again, wonder why we still have socks for toddlers in the kid’s drawers, and why does she keep stuffing her feet into them?” your unconscious mind is finally free to take over the world. Or at least work through that plot snag you’re struggling with.

People wonder why their best ideas come in the shower, or when they’re driving. It’s the same thing. Your conscious mind falls into “routine mode” and the blessed silence lets your brain work.

So I know it sounds like a waste of time to leave your desk and your wip for a walk, or to make (and enjoy!) some tea, or to do some housework, but really, it’s best for your brain to have this time to actually work without you asking it where you’re going to find a live chicken and a tattoo parlor at this time of night.