My New Post-it
There’s a cheesy-looking wreath hanging on my back porch—that place I go to find the sun like I wrote about a year ago. I consider it the most expensive sticky note I ever purchased—the wreath, not the porch. I blame it on the weather.
See, about two months ago—just when things should have started greening up—we had a day of wind and snow. Gloomy. Dreadful. And I just couldn’t stand it any more. I was tired of my LED-lit fake aspens and candles and pinecones and all the other wintry stuff. I was ready for spring.
Yeah, I know I’ve talked about this before. It’s a THING for me! Isn’t it for you?
So instead of working on my word count goal, I was indulging in a little online therapy. I know you know what I mean. Don’t pretend you don’t. I was skimming along when up popped a sale! Yes! Sale ahoy! Right there on my computer screen. And what was I supposed to do? Ignore it? Are you kidding me? And do what, watch the snow blow horizontally past my windows?
50% off beautiful wreaths, green and flowery and happy and not wintery in the least! A wish for spring that I could hang on the door like bait or something—“Here, Spring! Here, Spring! Come here!”
What could it hurt? Click. It should arrive just in time for my birthday.
I know what you’re thinking. That it couldn’t hurt to buy a cheery spring-y wreath to hang on my door and celebrate the end of winter. Hardly something to write home about.
Or, on the flip side, you might be skeptical about things that appear fabulous on a computer screen. Never fear. I checked the vendor. Etsy-something. I’ve found some great stuff on Etsy. This must be a spin-off. Only problem was…it wasn’t really Etsy. Not even a spin-off like I thought. (If I was Etsy, I would sue them for incorporating my name in theirs.)
The first clue was when the charge on my credit card had some other weird name. Again—NOT Etsy-something. And not even the name on the ad. So I went back, looking for the confirmation of my order, or an “It’s been Shipped” message. Finally found it in the junk folder (potential scam). Imagine that.
Yeah. Okay. I hear what you’re saying. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest way to lure spring to my door. But maybe the wreath—and spring—would be here by Easter.
The tracking number led to a site showing that it was in transit. Great. It was already two weeks after I ordered it! I should hope it would be in transit by then! But…from Hong Kong? Not from Texas, or anywhere else in the US? Which might be inferred when a person orders a Texas wildflower wreath from what I had mistakenly assumed was a small business using an Etsy-affiliate as their marketing platform. As I said earlier, though, definitely not Etsy, and absolutely no comparison to the real thing.
Too late to cancel the order, I resigned myself to the obvious.
Sometimes we have to relearn a lesson we thought we had already assimilated into informed decision-making.
…Like just how deceptive online advertisements can be.
When the package arrived about seven weeks after I ordered it, and long after Easter, I pulled it from the box and couldn’t decide whether to laugh at the cringe-worthy quality of the fake flowers, the difference between the advertised diameter and the reality, or the scent of hot plastic that emanated from the packaging.
But after cringing and covering my nose, I did laugh.
When we were kids, someone gave my brother a kit for melting and molding ugly-colored plastic pellets into different shapes like cars and tanks. This wreath smelled strangely similar to those multicolored plastic blob creations. Definitely not like bluebonnets or lilies-of-the-valley. But honestly, what had I expected?
I considered hanging a picture of what I thought I’d ordered alongside what I’d actually received and comparing the two, point by point.
But no. I decided to consider it a not-so-subtle reminder, and chalk it up to experience.
After all, it wasn’t any worse than a bunch of sticky notes, was it? I post those in my office to help me visualize character arcs, conflicts and lessons the heroes of my stories have to experience. The 3”x3” squares end up looking like a cluttered mess of garishly-colored fish scales on the cupboard door in my office. I’ve finally learned to hang them on the inside of the cupboard doors so I can see them when I need to, and hide them when I don’t. They’re just reminders I need to pull out and review now and then.
So I hung my plastic wreath on my back porch. It’s my (rather expensive) reminder that when I compare the beautiful pictures some people post online with reality, I’ll most likely smell something fake when I get past the wrapping.
I think you know what I’m talking about. Some people tend to present themselves and their experiences in the best light possible (or the most dramatic!) on social media, even if it doesn’t quite measure up to reality.
It’s elation, and a need to celebrate with others—or maybe just express themselves—behind what they’re posting, really. It’s not meant to be a comparison to what someone else is feeling, celebrating, or creating. Most people just want to share these moments in some way, with someone else.
Those beautiful pictures are a reminder to themselves and those they care about that life is good, despite the conflict and plot twists and hard lessons. And it’s worth celebrating, even if they have to wait an extra seven weeks for the good times to show up.
…Speaking of that, I wonder just what that plastic wreath is going to lure to my back door.
Want to share?
What lesson do you have to keep reviewing?
Ever get something unexpected from an online order?
Anyone have some property to sell where spring comes early? Send me a pic.
