Radiohead was playing. I inhaled the smell of Auntie Anne’s pretzels, and I got a passing whiff of something like Drakkar. For a moment in the mall today, everything aligned and suddenly I was 17 again. It was perfect.

Then I snapped back into my semi-disgruntled, errand-running reality. Why was I disgruntled? In that split second, nothing had changed at all.

Now, I wouldn’t want to be 17-year-old Deidre again (too close to the mullet years), but I loved that feeling. It was freedom. Everything was so new, so exciting. The world was my oyster.

The point?
With cologne-filled nostrils, it hit me that youth is a feeling, a smell, a moment—a state of mind. We can be young, unburdened and lighthearted whenever we choose. If only we stop being so damn serious.

For me, creativity thrives on joy. This means that talking to chipmunks is pretty much a business necessity.

Just for a moment, what if we forget about life’s responsibilities and start thinking about its possibilities? Well, that’s exactly what I did. I ditched my errands and bought this youth-invoking reminder.