Let's waste time chasing cars

Just last week, I had one of those Murphy's Law type mornings: torrential downpour, empty gas tank, should have been on the freeway on-ramp ten minutes ago. As I entered the gas station, the Pandora gods brightened my day with the beginnings of a song that I quite enjoy. I can't help but feel a sense of fortuitousness when these types of songs come up on my Pandora. Though I could easily create and listen to my own playlist comprised only of songs that I love, there is something especially thrilling about leaving this to chance.

Back to the dulcet tones at the decrepit gas station. In what might seem like an entirely counter-intuitive move, I immediately paused the song. I didn't want to listen to it in a gas station. No. I'd rather jam to this one while I drive. It will be so romantic. Rain falling, trees whooshing by, beautiful music playing.  I hopped out of my car and went through a normal gas-filling routine. While the tank was getting attention, I sat in my car bored and motionless. I watched the numbers of gallons and dollars scroll upwards while pellets of rain came smashing down on my windshield. I couldn't wait to start driving and listen to my song. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the numbers clicked to a stop. As if on fast-forward, I scurried out of my car, restored the nozzle and twisted the gas cap closed. Within seconds, I was back in the driver's seat, ready to blast my music. I snatched my phone and pressed "Play." 

It was disastrous, what happened next: The song skipped and a new one started to play.

Upset. That is the only word I would use to describe my feelings on the situation. As if to teach the wretched Pandora a lesson, I closed the application. Seriously? That's it. I'm playing my own music today. That day, I listened to iTunes on my way to work, overcome with irreconcilable anger throughout my drive. 

As I think back, I cannot, for the life of me remember which song it was. The boredom of watching a gas tank get filled, the anger of realizing that my song had skipped, the punishing of Pandora during my ride to work, are all, however, still palpable memories for me. 

In psychology, deferred gratification refers to our ability to resist temptation for an immediate reward in return for some later, greater reward. The ability to delay gratification is correlated with other favorable outcomes like academic success, physical well-being, and even social competence. In this particular situation, however, I was fooling myself into thinking that I would enjoy the song more in the future, when I was driving.

Today, I spent a few hours working in our building's break area. During the course of several hours, I had the pleasure of overhearing a number of water-cooler conversations (which in my building is technically espresso-maker conversation). The funny thing is that almost every single conversation was similar. It went something like this -- 

Person 1: Wow, we're running low on espresso beans.

Person 2: I know, I can't believe how fast they go.

Person 1: Well thank goodness we have the secret stash. 

Person 2: Seriously. And we've always got Mark upstairs. He keeps a pound of beans at his desk.

The irony of the particular conversation is three-fold. 

First, the secret stash does not in fact exist. Well, it doesn't exist anymore at least. Many months ago, the glorious man who replenishes our espresso beans told a few select people that he leaves extra boxes of espresso beans in a cabinet around the corner. Well, word got out before we knew it, the secret stash has fallen victim to a tragedy of the commons.

The second piece of irony is that well, the stash, even if it did exist, is anything but a secret. 

The last and most important piece of irony is there were more than enough espresso beans for the present moment. For each and every coffee date. And yet, each group spent its entire coffee break worrying about the future. Nobody stopped to smell the coffee, so to speak. They were unable to enjoy the present moment in fear of a compromised future happiness. 

The cases of the song and beans helped me come to a rather important realization: delayed gratification has some caveats. While the bigger future reward is true in many cases (ie, resisting a bag of chips today for a beautiful body in a couple months), we often fail to realize that some rewards don't actually get any bigger in the future. In these cases, we just make our present and future selves exceptionally unhappy (no Pandora at the gas station or on the drive; inability to enjoy the coffee now and finding no secret stash later). 

I think there's a rather simple fix. Identify the few things that will make you happy today, in this moment. Things that will be just as enjoyable later. But enjoy them fully now. A relentless, committed enjoyment. It is these seemingly minor and childish moments of joy that give us necessary strength and willpower to strive for the later, greater rewards. 

Call it your song, your secret stash, whatever. Just use it up quickly. Because believe you me, songs get old and espresso beans? They go stale.