Caring requires time and effort. It’s like filling up a bucket, except it’s filling up the mind and heart with a person, a thing, or a cause. You have to think about the object of your caring, which means shifting your brain from idle to at least first gear.
Science moment: Assuming you have a brain, and frankly, the fact that you are reading this blog creates doubt, said assumed brain idles at about 6 to 11 calories per hour. Actual thinking increases the amount of calories only slightly, which explains why there are so many thickheaded people about.
If caring were math, it would be the whole numbers, which depending on who you trust and I’m not sure it should be me, includes zero. Getting from caring to the nothingness or zero of not caring requires sliding down the scale of care like a firefighter sliding down the firehouse pole.
Couldn’t-care-lessness is measurable and getting there requires another simile. It’s like untying a balloon full of concern and attentiveness and forcing all of it out by stretching the neck of the balloon to produce sounds not unlike those experienced during gastrointestinal distress. Once all of that air is satisfyingly released (and you know exactly what I’m talking about), you have emptied yourself and have reached the “Om” of OMG, I couldn’t care less.
Once this nirvana of carelessness has been achieved, you must never think about the subject again, so as to not disturb your care-o-meter. This explains why I avoid reading tabloid headlines in supermarket lines and tend to weep any time I come across bad words like…Warning! BWA! (Bad Words Alert)….Bieber, Kardashian, and Brangelina.
Hearing or reading about what the not-to-be-mentioned people wear, don’t wear, eat, don’t eat, kiss, or don’t kiss knocks my brain out of idle and forces me to not care about what I just heard or read. The very act of not caring about the information tires me out and often leaves me at the place where I could care less if I tried, but I don’t have the energy or inclination to do so. More often than not I exhaust myself into numbness and discover I could not care less, but this usually requires dark chocolate, wine, or both.
So, yeah, sometimes I really could care less.
year-struck 
Simply brilliant. And I think I will print and frame your care-o-meter for my office!
Always happy when you enjoy the writing.
Maybe this is a new diet? A way to lose weight? Or just an excuse to eat chocolate!
You know me so well!
LOL, that was delightful. I am finally becoming old enough where I can catch glimpses of not caring. They don’t tell you about that when you’re younger, but it is one of the best kept secrets of aging.
Recently someone was bemoaning about wanting to be in their 20’s again. I kid you not, I actually had an anxiety attack. Oh heavens no, not all that angst and misery and trying to change the world again! Just shoot me now.
Age allows you the luxury of no longer pretending to care. It’s very freeing.
I’m a very careless reader, but you probably couldn’t care less about that. Or could you? If I were a more careful reader, I’d probably know.
In cases like this, I try to be careful.
I have so much to learn about caring less… though celebrities never really gave me heart throb… still it’s worth thinking about directing one’s care with proper portions. I still remember care packages that once arrived from America… very simple and modest, yet meaningful and in good taste.
So we can’t say you’ve never a care in the world. It’s nice to know that America packaged its care so nicely.
Damn, I wasn’t going to comment, as I couldn’t care less about the subject of this blog. But then, if I didn’t comment then how would you know that I read it and don’t care? It is indeed a paradigm. lol. Great post as usual.
Just knowing about something or being reminded of something that you couldn’t care less about requires you to care even less, which often requires too much energy and leaves you in a state of being able to care less. It is indeed a dilemma.
I’d completely agree with whatever it was that you just said.. If I cared enough to read it again.. Which I don’t. Have a great day.
What a riot….and actually I find this to be truer and truer as I age! Very much a fan of your care-o-meter!
I’m so glad you care.
Very entertaining! The care-o-metre is wonderful, every home should have one. Wine and chocolate, were would we be without them?
We would be more care-full, or maybe more careful. 🙂
As one who gets rather annoyed when people who *mean* that they *couldn’t* care less say that they “could care less,” I found this a profound scientific explication on your part. Except for the fallacious, if slight, closing implication that there exists *anything* that isn’t better solved with the generous application of chocolate and wine. 🙂
K
Kathryn, I appreciate your insight into my profundity and fallaciousness, both of which rely on a steady diet of chocolate and wine.
You said that beautifully, and you obviously know what to do about it.
Please don’t ask me to care about the things I say; my writing clearly shows a certain care–lessness on my part. (Sorry for the two hyphens – Word Press has an annoying habit of caring about inventive spelling.)
This could explain why I’m so bad at social media. One must conserve the kilojoules for the things that matter.
TMI, the bedrock of social media, is the primary source of failure to care less.