Quite the Puzzle

My husband Bill loves puzzles. I am sitting in his chair as I write this and I am surrounded by a books of Sudoku and KenKen. He does these puzzles as we watch TV at night, giving half of his attention to the plot of the series and half to the numbers that will complete the little Sukoku squares. When he goes onto his computer, more often than not he will end his work session with a game of FreeCell.

I hate puzzles. If I am to be completely honest (and that is indeed my goal with this blog and with my life), I also hate games. I don’t know why or when this began, but I really hate games. Other people seem to enjoy them, but I don’t get it. When I was a kid, I loved playing Monopoly and gin rummy when my brother was around. But somewhere between St. Charles Place and a Get Out of Jail Free card, I lost interest. I used to love jigsaw puzzles as well, but they are also on my list.

I’ve never attempted to analyze this drift away from puzzles and games. Why would I? I am an adult, consistently involved in the act of adulting every day, and I don’t have to participate in these activities if I don’t want to. But my internal activities? The things that go on in my brain to create weight fluctuations that make me appear to be with child every five years? Those are the puzzles I want to solve.

I didn’t gain the freshman 15 in college. Then again, I was terrified to open my mouth when I first got to college for fear I would have to speak to my table mates. This can also greatly inhibit one’s ability to consume food. I gained some weight in college but nothing significant. I gained when I got my apartment since it was the first time I was in charge of my own food, and by in charge I mean that I had a freezer full of Celeste pizza. I really began to gain, however, when I got married and moved to New Jersey. This makes no sense because I married someone I truly loved (and still do) and we moved into a beautiful condo in a nice town. Then why? Why did my epic rise to 306 pounds begin then? The answer has eluded me for 25 years and continues to be a mystery to me. Was it moving away from the place in which I had grown up? Leaving my parents? Figuring out what to do with my life career-wise? I don’t yet know the answers. I wish I did. But by thinking about the why I am beginning the journey toward the solution.

So it appears I am quite the puzzle. I guess if I truly want to solve my internal Sudoku for good, I really need to start liking puzzles. Ever onward I will walk toward a solution to the puzzle that is me. One last thing: who is KenKen, anyway? And why does he say his name twice? Now that’s a puzzle. Maybe I should start calling my puzzle-lover BillBill…