I never used to be able to do Sudoku puzzles, namely because I never applied myself to them.  I just looked at the crazy boxes with seemingly random number combinations in them and my logical powers would pack up and swiftly vacate my brain.

In lieu of more productive things to do this Summer, though, I’ve gotten good… well, capable, at doing Sudoku. Every day with the paper – a nice daily ritual with a cup of tea.

The worst thing about Sudoku though is failing. It’s not like failing at a crossword where you can just rub out the mistake and retry another word.  99% of the time, if you fail at Sudoku you don’t realise until too late. It’s brutal, ego-crushing, sometimes soul-destroying. Something doesn’t fit, two sevens have to go in this box or you can’t put that three where you wanted to! JESUS.

At this point you feel like the Sudoku gods are looking at you, pointing and laughing at your lack of basic logic. YOU MORON, how did you not see that was a 4 and not a 9?! As if you didn’t feel bad enough having failed in the simple task that was your charge, you are then presented with the issue of the evidence.

You don’t want anyone to see your failed puzzle attempt lest they laugh at your ineptitude. The only option is to furtively rip it out and throw it away, eat it or burn it or some shit.

Because I am still awful at Sudoku this is something I find myself doing often.

I will get better.

I will.


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