Or shave.
I’m with the posters on various foods. I also wonder how thread was invented.
There’s a high overpass near my house that is fantastic to go over at moonrise, especially at sunset. Gorgeous. I don’t consider it mundane, but most people seem blaise about it.
Its kind of similar to what some people said earlier, but it amazes me that somewhere, sometime, someone said down and designed every single little crappy thing in my room. The $1 shower curtain I bought at the dollar store? It has a rather ugly pattern, green with purple dots. Someone had to sit down and decide what shade of green it was going to be, and what shade of purple. Someone had to decide how big the dots were going to be, how far apart they were going to be, how many there were going to be. Someone had to decide that there were going to be dots at all. And in the end, all that thinking results in me looking at a $1 shower curtain and thinking Meh, at least its cheap. I think about these things a lot, especially ceiling tiles or linoleum. Whose job is it to design those everyday things? We all know about clothing designers or whatever, but who designed your grandmothers ancient wallpaper, or the fabric that covers your chair? Who decided what color your broom should be, and what shape? Who designed this :o for that matter. Its so bizarre to me that somewhere, that is someone`s job.
Different languages also blow my mind. No matter how hard I try, I cant understand some things and yet to other people, it`s crystal-clear. Living in a country where I dont speak the language, sometimes I just think: OK, lets stop fooling around now, and just understand! But of course, my mind just cant do it.
At work tonight, handling a seemingly endless stream (ha!) of urine samples the part of my brain that was idling started thinking thoughts like these. Over the past twenty years I’ve touched bits of hundreds, maybe thousands of people. Tissue, blood, urine, all sorts of things containing the cells, the living materials that make up humans. I’ve held them in my hands and performed tests on them. But I’ve never seen any of these people, their faces. I know their names, their diseases, but not who they are. And none of them even know I exist. It’s weird. And I go on doing my mundane tasks until the shift ends.
We FLY, man! I mean, holy cow! We FLY!
Oh, and I wonder what response the first person got who suggested eating the round white thing that came out of the chicken’s butt. 
One things that strikes me on a (semi) regular basis is how inefficiently we move around. Like: maybe I have to travel 10 km to get to work, and then 10 km back when my shift is over. At the same time some other person might do the exact same thing, but in the opposite direction! Wouldn’t it be much more effficient if everybody already were where they need to be, instead of travelling around all the time?
And another thing:
Imagine a large company, or other organisation. Very simplified:
The president of the company makes the overall, large scale decisions, like where to invest money, and which general direction to take the company. Middle management might make decisions about how to make those things happen, and the workers are the ones who actually produce stuff (like assembling the products, or whatever).
Now the weird thing is, that most people in the company don’t even know what most of the other folks are doing. So we got lots of small parts, mostly unaware of each other, yet as a whole, it works.
It reminds me of ants a bit. You know, an individual ant has no real intelligence to speak of, yet an ant COLONY can construct huge ant hills, attack enemies as a group, protect their queen, etc.
So yeah, people=ants. 
The freakiest, to me, is that I still have e-mail in my in-box from my late father.
Trees and rocks.
I have lots of rocks. Trees, not so many.
But, I love looking at them. I have spent a lot of time going to see particular trees. Rocks not so much. I just pick them up.
Erosion, too. I almost always stop and examine erosion that I find. Erosion is very cool.
Tris
I am occasionally really bothered by the idea that I’ll never know what colors look like to you. I mean, we all agree that the same wavelength is called “green” but what if your brain perceives green slightly different than mine? We’ll never know!
Me too! Was the first thread made from cotton, or something else? Flax? I’ve never seen flax, but it’s mentioned in historical novels all the time, and the Bible.
How can something that thin be so strong? And how is that spool of thread all the same color? And why does the color last? Why doesn’t it rub off?
And how do they get color and designs onto the fabric?
I’d guess sinew or horsehair.
I did a brief search. One site said plant fibers were probably the first to be woven together, then came flax, cotton, and wool.
I guess I was thinking of the first things used to join materials to make clothing–not necessarily woven, but I imagine they had to use something to put skins together before cloth was invented.
How many processes go on in my brain at any given time. I mean, they’re mostly really mundane - my left middle toe hurts just a little, why is it doing that, and I have six projects in various stages of completion and I’m thinking vaguely a little about those, and my cat’s sneezing, is she sick again or is it just a sneeze, and how many times has she sneezed in the last hour, and did my boy just say something or not, and if he did, was it to me or was it to his networked game partner, and where did my iPod cord go, when was the last time I saw it, and at least one train of thought for every three tabs I have up in firefox right now. That’s (counts on fingers) 17 trains of thought, plus the one creating this post.
Most of them don’t require a lot of clock cycles (heh), but they’re all there - how do I do that? How does everybody do that, and still do things like typing and driving and eating and moving about and all that other good stuff? How damned complex are the connections in our skulls that we can think about this many things at once, plus all the autonomic stuff that goes on well below the level of consciousness, plus all the grey-area stuff in between that’s taking up processor time, but can’t be clearly verbalized? How in the hell do we have time for all that?
It boggles my mind, obviously.
Ever since I was a kid, the idea of photography just seemed like a miracle. With a click of a button, we can capture the image of a scene, and later see the same image on a piece of paper. It’s a window to the past, like a time machine. My mental images of what our house looked like when I was a kid, or how my family looked, or what I got for Christmas, all fade over the years. But if I look at a photo taken back then, it’s right there.
When I was in junior high, I joined the photography club and learned how to use a darkroom. And I was amazed again – here I was, a dumb kid, doing the entire process of taking pictures, developing the film, and making the enlargements.
(Later, I worked in two different camera shops, and also in a photo lab.)