Quixotic Quotidian Quirk

I am an an addict.  At first, I only popped open a new one every couple of days, and only with friends. After a while I needed one everyday, and I started partaking even when I was alone.  They say that is one of the first signs. Now I find myself indulging two or three times a day. I cannot stop. I even found myself using in the car the other day, in the elementary school parking lot while I was waiting for kids. I know it is wrong, but it just feels so good.

It started in December when Hunky Hubby got a new iPod for his birthday.  I inherited his old one. This is, BTW how I get most of my gear and gadgets, but that is a post for another day. I now possess an iPod, or as I like to call it...portable Scrabble player, à la Morty Seinfeld's "tip calculator." My children have been relentless in their mocking sneers and jeers. "It does OTHER things, Mom." Why would I need it to do other things? I can play Scrabble anywhere.  ANYwhere!

Well, I guess that is where the trouble started.  Even when I am not using, I find myself thinking about it. Adding the point values of the day's newspaper headline. Word scores racing through my mind like greyhounds after the proverbial RABBIT. (Or HARE, on a double word score.) Anticipating the chance to use a beauty like QUIXOTIC or JUMBLE. Forming words from nothing but a rack of seemingly useless vowels; squeezing every point possible from those little 1point tiles with gems retrieved from the recesses of the mind like OOTID, EERIE or QUEUE. Adoring those little guys QI, JO and AX that pack such big punch with just a couple of tiles. Always chasing the next high.  Thrilling at a single-play score like 96; triple word, all 7 tiles... It was a thing of beauty. A subtle mix of art and science.  I do not remember the word, but I remember the high. Oh, the high.

There you have it.  Hope this makes the grade Teach! This post is dedicated to my father, a recovering addict, whose one-step program consisted of everyone finally refusing to play with him. I am currently searching for a program or a support group myself. Preferably one where the patients sit around a large table with a dictionary and racks of little lettered tiles and a board with pretty pink, and blue, and red squares...I gotta go.

Quote of The Day: "One forgets words as one forgets names. One's vocabulary needs constant fertilizing or it will die." --Evelyn Waugh user of words