Torturous Rubik

Monday, December 08 2003

I have a slow computer at work, and find myself waiting for it to catch up with the light speed calculations of my ever growing head. Instead of staring into blank space, or coming up with fantastical plans of destroying the computer with elegant sword play or explosive martial arts, I’ve taken up Rubik’s cube.

But the cube, it defies me. I try, and I try, and yet, here it sits, a multi colored mess. I know there are strategies, and that once you understand it, it becomes easier and easier. I’m avoiding all strategies at this point. I simply must be capable of solving the puzzle without help. I come from a smart chain of people, certainly a Rubik’s cube toy shouldn’t be able to stump me.

The irony is that I’m always about two steps away from solving it when my computer becomes ready for me again, and then the solution forgotten the next time I pick it up the cube. Or, as seems to be happening more often, someone scrambles it even further when I’m not looking. I can only assume it’s done out of spite of my good looks and undeniable charm.