My Love of Cookie Monster Explained
A few days ago, my friend Julie Bestry posted a link to an article on Slate. The title is Chaos Theory, A Unified Theory of Muppet Types. Julie has no doubts whatsoever about her own type: she is an order muppet. It took me a while to come to the conclusion that I am a chaos muppet who works hard (usually unsuccessfully) to maintain a little order.
Part of the reason it took so long for me to decide that I am really a chaos muppet was this:
“Chaos Muppets are out-of-control, emotional, volatile. They tend toward the blue and fuzzy. They make their way through life in a swirling maelstrom of food crumbs, small flaming objects, and the letter C.”
Who wants to be described like that? It is a particularly rough description for someone you might consider hiring to provide some service for your business.
Then there is the author’s whole discussion of life partners. My husband is undoubtedly a chaos muppet. He is a spur-of-the-moment, take-life-as-it-comes, never-plan-anything kind of guy, so you would think that I would almost have to be an order muppet in order for the two of us (and our marriage!) to have survived for so long.
The coffee stain on my shirt, my perpetually wild hair, and the fact that multiple junk drawers exist in every room of my house, though, tell the true story. And, in thinking about it, I’ve decided that there is a business case for chaos.
Sudden, blinding epiphanies are natural for chaos muppets. We have them regularly. We lose ourselves in creative effort and forget what clocks even are, much less that we should use them. In running a business, the logical plan of an order muppet can take you far, but there is much to be said for the focused, creative energy of a chaos muppet.
I’ve decided to fully embrace my chaotic nature. Consider yourself forewarned, and expect brilliance.