What do people want?

I have a hideous, awful, horrible confession to make: I am unoriginal. I used this title in another blog post that I used for a writer's group blog, but I promise not to repeat content. And my answer is different this time: Mint chip ice cream.

The what-do-people-want question was floating through my head as I scooped my third helping. Why do people do what they do? And why does this stuff taste so damn good eighteen spoonfuls later?

The answer to the second is scientific manipulation of my taste buds but the first is more interesting and slippery, almost as slippery as melted ice cream which is why I don't waste time when eating it.

Our brains are goal-oriented. Without goals, we wouldn't do anything, ever. If you don't believe me, try it out. Tell yourself it doesn't matter if you brush your hair today, go to work or finish that novel and see how far you get. (I'll tell you this much, if you are me and you go outside without doing something with your/my/our hair, we will be picked up in no time flat as an escapee from the local loony bin.)

We respond to incentives, whether it is financial (showing up to work) seeking out good feelings (the pleasurable sensation of that cold, refreshing, sweet stuff on our tongue) or the rush we get from finishing a chapter and thus getting one step closer to our goal of finishing the dang novel before I turn 100. As far as grooming goes, the sensation of the hairbrush might feel good to our scalp, but I think for most of us, the incentive is to avoid the look of pity in others' eyes that we have devolved into a bag lady.

I am in the process of making tags and putting clothes on hangers for a semiannual consignment sale. My husband asks, 'Why do you do that? Why not just donate that junk?' It's a valid question, although I do take issue with the word 'junk' when we've got a whole basement full of his treasures. I do it because it makes me feel good. I get to sort through all my kids outgrown clothes and get one last nostalgic rush before sending them on to the next owner who will hopefully look as cute in them as my kids did. I also do it so I can get the first shot at buying from the consignment sale. Win-win if you ask me. Hubby looks at me like I'm a crazy bag lady. (I've been busy and can't find a comb. So sue me.)
We all have our pleasures, but do we take time out to think about them? Check in and see if they still fit or if it's time to let them go?

Oh, hey, what a great metaphor with the outgrown clothes. Gosh, I feel like a genius. I deserve a treat. If you want some mint chip, get your own. This container is just the right size for me.