Officially responsible for making ordinary places slightly less ordinary.
Officially responsible for making ordinary places slightly less ordinary.
There is already enough sensible behavior in the world.
People alphabetize things.
Schedule appointments.
Read instruction manuals.
Put important documents in folders with names like:
IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS
All very useful.
But occasionally I think civilization benefits from someone quietly placing a pair of googly eyes on the stapler.
😂
Not vandalism.
Not inconvenience.
Nothing that frightens, embarrasses, damages, or makes more work for another person.
Just a tiny interruption in an otherwise completely predictable day.
The kind that makes someone stop—
look—
look again—
and smile.
This is important.
Proper nonsense should leave the world better than it found it.
If somebody has to clean it up, repair it, explain it to security, call the fire department, or apologize to their grandmother—
you have misunderstood the assignment.
😂
The Department therefore maintains one very strict rule:
Confuse gently. Delight generously. Cause no trouble.
Excellent.
Now that the paperwork is complete, we may proceed.
Make something absurdly small.
A miniature envelope.
A tiny painting.
A book no larger than your thumb.
A microscopic-looking treasure map.
A paper crown suitable for a walnut.
A matchbox-sized gallery containing one magnificent doodle.
Then place it somewhere in your own home where it has absolutely no reason to be.
Inside the cupboard beside the coffee cups.
On a bookshelf between two enormous novels.
Beside a houseplant.
Near the bathroom mirror.
On your desk.
Wait.
Eventually someone will discover it.
When they ask:
“What is this?”
The Department recommends replying:
“I'm not sure. It was here when I arrived.”
😁
Look around.
There are objects in your home that have worked faithfully for years without receiving a single promotion.
This is unacceptable.
The wooden spoon?
Director of Sauce Operations.
Laundry basket?
Regional Textile Transportation Manager.
Remote control?
Executive Director of Things Nobody Can Find.
Coffee maker?
Director of Morning Restoration Services.
Scissors?
Senior Vice President of Separating Things That Were Previously Together.
Tape?
Head of Reconsidering That Decision.
😂
No labels are required.
Although tiny business cards are certainly not discouraged.
This is particularly effective with objects you use every day.
The vacuum cleaner.
A favorite mug.
The car.
A stubborn drawer.
The enormous plant taking over the living room.
That one floorboard.
The printer.
Actually, perhaps especially the printer.
Printers already behave as though they have personalities.
You may as well introduce yourself properly.
Why should calendars have all the authority?
Declare one.
National Eat Breakfast for Dinner Evening.
Annual Wear the Socks Nobody Gets to See Day.
International Sit Somewhere Else for Coffee Morning.
The Feast of Using the Good Dishes for Absolutely No Reason.
That last one may actually be important.
Oh dear.
Meaning is trying to sneak in again.
Shoo.
This may be my favorite.
Not litter.
Not something intrusive.
Just a tiny discovery.
Draw a little heart in sidewalk chalk.
Arrange three pebbles into a face on your own garden wall.
Put a ridiculous doodle in someone's lunch.
Tuck a tiny handmade paper star into a book you own for your future self to discover.
Make a snowman's snowman.
Put a miniature bouquet in a thimble.
Create a tiny door at the base of a tree on your own property and refuse to provide any explanation whatsoever.
The world does not always need another announcement.
Sometimes it needs a small mystery.
There is something wonderful about creating a happy moment you don't get credit for.
You may never see the discovery.
You don't know whether the person laughed.
There is no photograph.
No post.
No proof.
You simply know that somewhere in another person's day there was suddenly something that wasn't there before.
A note.
A doodle.
A paper heart.
A ridiculous little object.
A moment of:
Well, that's unexpected.
And then you continue with your day.
Perhaps smiling slightly.
Because you know something they don't.
Create one tiny, harmless interruption in the ordinary.
It must:
make no mess,
damage nothing,
embarrass nobody,
require nothing from the person who finds it,
and exist solely because the world was becoming suspiciously sensible.
You may work alone.
You may recruit accomplices.
Children are likely to demonstrate considerable natural aptitude and should probably be promoted immediately.
😂
When finished, there is no report to file.
No photograph required.
No evidence necessary.
The Department operates largely on trust.
Besides—
we have people everywhere.
Probably.