A student gave me a Sudokube last week. This thing is a Rubik's Cube with numbers on it.
He's one of my best students - after being a slack little mongrel for ages, he's pulled his finger out and is learning buckets extra each week. So basically I feel an obligation to him that because he puts in so much effort I need to actually give this thing a decent amount of time. I'd get cranky at him if he didn't give much time to something I gave him to work on, so fair's fair.
But this thing is hellishly difficult. I never got Rubik's Cubes anyway. So I pick this thing up, spin the bits a couple of different ways and get frustrated. I put it down. I pick it up, reminding myself that anger at inanimate objects might be satisfying but certainly not productive. I am better than it due to the pure fact that I have a brain and can move on my own. I spin it a bit more and try to execute some plan of attack - "Vic, we have to be systematic about this thing." - and then spin the thing a few more times and put it on the shelf.
I'm letting a piece of plastic be symbolic of mental inedaequacy. Shame.
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2 comments:
amen. i got one for christmas. the damn thing will be the death of me
Welcome, dustin! I've actually given up on mine in favour of more immediately rewarding things - ie, playing guitar and composing.
It's still leering at me from the shelf in my studio, though.
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