I Could Use A Monster Right Now
Last Tuesday, I was standing in the grocery store, staring blankly at the cereal aisle. It was 7 PM, I’d just finished a marathon Zoom call that left my brain feeling like overcooked spaghetti, and the thought of making dinner was… well, let’s just say it was on par with scaling Mount Everest in flip-flops. My gaze landed on a box of Frosted Flakes, a childhood relic, and a strange little thought popped into my head: “You know, I could really use a monster right now.”
Not a literal monster, mind you. No, no. Not a fire-breathing, cape-wearing, apartment-destroying kind of creature. Although, admittedly, the latter might have solved my cleaning dilemma. What I meant was something… else. Something that would swoop in, take the reins, and handle the mundane, soul-crushing tasks that were currently piling up like a neglected laundry basket.
It got me thinking. In a world that’s constantly telling us to be self-sufficient, to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, and to conquer every single challenge with a smile and a positive attitude, is it so wrong to sometimes crave a little… assistance? Especially when that assistance comes in a form as wonderfully fantastical as a monster?
Think about it. We’ve all been there, right? That moment when the to-do list stretches into infinity, the bills are multiplying faster than rabbits, and the sheer effort of existing feels Herculean. We’re bombarded with images of productivity gurus and “hustle culture” influencers, all telling us that we can, and should, do it all. And for a while, we try. Oh, how we try.
But then there are those days. The days when your motivation has packed its bags and gone on a permanent vacation. The days when even deciding what to wear feels like a Herculean feat. On those days, the idea of a helpful monster doesn’t seem so ridiculous. It’s almost… comforting.
The Glorious Impossibility of a Helpful Monster
What would this monster even look like? For me, it’s a big, shaggy creature, perhaps with multiple arms and an uncanny knack for organization. Imagine it: it could fold laundry with terrifying efficiency, sort mail into neat piles of “definitely important,” “maybe important,” and “utter garbage,” and even whip up a gourmet meal from the contents of your fridge (which, let's be honest, usually consists of wilting lettuce and that questionable jar of olives). It would have a booming, yet gentle, voice, offering words of encouragement like, “Fear not, human! This colossal pile of dishes shall be vanquished before sunrise!”
And the best part? This monster wouldn't judge. It wouldn't tut-tut at your messy desk or sigh dramatically at your procrastination. It would simply… do. It would be the ultimate problem-solver, the ultimate burden-lifter. A benevolent beast of burden, if you will. A furry, fanged fairy godmother of sorts.
Of course, this is pure fantasy. In reality, we’re usually left to our own devices. We have to be the monsters in our own lives, battling our own mountains of tasks and anxieties. And don’t get me wrong, there’s a certain power in that. There’s a deep satisfaction in overcoming challenges, in proving to ourselves what we’re capable of. But sometimes, just sometimes, the sheer weight of it all can feel a bit… much.
I remember when I was younger, I used to fantasize about having a magical helper. Not a genie, that felt too transactional. More like a silent partner who just knew what needed to be done. Maybe it was a little elf that lived in my backpack, tidying up my notes, or a friendly dragon that would gently nudge me towards my homework. The thought was always about alleviating the pressure, about having someone (or something) to share the load.
When the Ordinary Becomes Extraordinary
The truth is, even the most ordinary tasks can feel overwhelming when you’re depleted. That pile of emails? Suddenly a dragon’s hoard. That simple phone call to schedule an appointment? A perilous quest. It's in these moments that the idea of a monster, a force of nature dedicated to tackling the mundane, becomes incredibly appealing.
It’s not about laziness, I don’t think. It’s about acknowledging our limitations. It’s about recognizing that we’re not superheroes, even though society often expects us to act like it. We have finite energy, finite time, and finite mental bandwidth. And sometimes, that bandwidth is completely maxed out.
Think about the sheer amount of mental energy we expend on… well, everything. Deciding what to eat, planning outfits, remembering birthdays, navigating complex social dynamics, managing finances, keeping our living spaces habitable. It’s a constant hum of cognitive load. And when that hum gets too loud, the desire for a simple, monstrous solution intensifies.
I’ve noticed this particularly in the past few years. The world has thrown so much at us – unexpected global events, personal challenges, the relentless march of technology demanding our attention. It’s like we’re all running a marathon, but the finish line keeps getting pushed further and further away, and we’re doing it all on a diet of lukewarm coffee and sheer willpower.
So, when I say, “I could use a monster right now,” what I’m really saying is: “I could use a break from the relentless pressure to be ‘on’ all the time.” I could use a reprieve from the cognitive gymnastics required to simply keep life afloat. I could use a moment of uncomplicated assistance, a moment where the sheer, unadulterated doing of things is handled by something else.
It’s the irony of it all, isn’t it? We’re told to embrace our inner strengths, to be resilient, to be independent. And yes, these are valuable qualities. But in our relentless pursuit of self-sufficiency, we sometimes forget the beauty of interdependence, or even just the sheer relief of delegation. Even if that delegation is to a creature of pure imagination.
Maybe it’s the engineer in me, always looking for the most efficient solution. And in this hypothetical scenario, a monster is the ultimate efficiency expert. No coffee breaks, no office politics, just pure, unadulterated task completion. It’s a delightfully absurd thought experiment, and one that brings a small, wry smile to my face.
Embracing the ‘Monstrous’ in Ourselves
And perhaps, in a strange way, this desire for a monster is a reflection of our own untapped potential. Maybe, when we feel overwhelmed, it’s not because we’re incapable, but because we’re trying to do too much with our human limitations. Maybe we need to embrace our own inner “monsters” – the parts of us that can tackle daunting tasks with fierce determination, the parts that can focus with laser-like precision, the parts that can push through exhaustion.
It’s about finding that balance, isn’t it? Between acknowledging our vulnerability and tapping into our strength. Between recognizing that we can’t do it all alone and celebrating our ability to achieve great things. It’s about understanding that sometimes, the most sensible thing you can do is to wish for a mythical creature to handle the laundry.
So, the next time you’re standing in the grocery store, staring at a box of cereal with a sense of existential dread, or facing a mountain of emails that seems insurmountable, don’t feel guilty for that fleeting thought. Embrace it. “I could use a monster right now.” It’s a sign of being human, of being stretched, and of secretly (or not so secretly) yearning for a little bit of magic in the mundane. And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, that monster is already within you, waiting for its cue to roar.
Or maybe, just maybe, I should just order pizza. That seems like a more achievable monster solution for tonight.