I’ve played more Monopoly this weekend than I ever thought I would. It’s not really all that much fun, but Jodi likes it, so I play it. And besides, it’s marginally more difficult to play than Uno and Skip-Bo. The Geevers are playing Taboo now (and arguing about whether “CD” is a valid answer for “compact disc”). This is the game-playingest family I’ve ever seen.
I’ve got a variety of presents in the car. One mom gave my disease a bunch of presents; the other mom gave me candy and oatmeal creme pies (and corn chips, which goes to prove that it was the standard stocking stuffer assortment). I’m not sure which is more depressing. I’ve been walking, though — three or four miles a day, generally.
Sudoku is probably going to force my brain into the sort of zone it used to fall into, the sort of glassy-eyed concentration that Fischer operates in, the Csikszentmihalyian flow that used to accompany my math-competition days. Or it might not. I can see myself abandoning language to operate at the level of pictures. To my surprise, I’ve realized that I do think in pictures, at least more than I thought I did. I seem to have some things in common with Aspies, though whether that list includes the obvious would be a matter of speculation.
I thought this would be the year I finally got the menorah right, but it turns out that I was supposed to light the first candle after sundown on Christmas. Screw it. I’ll try again next year.