I suck at tetris, and other reasons I will be taking math next semester

Okay, so maybe I'm taking The Mathematics of Money next semester, in desperate hopes that my savings account won't look nearly as dismal come April, but it occurred to me yesterday that there are plenty of day to day activities that make me realize that I probably should have paid more attention in math class, and done more than this:

Hmm, this is actually one that I know. For some reason, finding the value of X brings the same sort of thrill to me as if I had a lifetime supply of coffee or glitter. Yet as a friend and I were playing tetris last night (somehow I avoided the stereotypical study hall activity by blogging and writing novels. NBD), I couldn't even get all the blocks to fit on the bottom row. Do you know how sad that is? Level one, and I was already dead by the first set. If the fate of the world were left in the hands of all tetris players, I'd destroy everything before we could even think about level two.

That awkward moment when all your hopes and dreams of world domination are brought to a screeching halt because you can't even arrange some blocks on a computer screen.

I ended up just making pretty designs with the blocks. One time I could've sworn I made a giant L, as though the flashing neon sign of "losing" wasn't clear enough.

The same goes with puzzles. Don't even let me think about those complex 2,000 million piece puzzles--I'm talking your basic 500 piece puzzle. All throughout elementary school, I avoided the issue by pretending I was too cool with my American Girl Dolls, or I was busy taking care of my Tamagotchi. But once you pass elementary school and the kids you're babysitting are better at puzzles than you, you know that spatial intelligence is not just something that is so last year. It haunts you forever, like a ghost, or the fact that Jersey Shore happened.

Yet the biggest slap in the face for being horrid at geometry is shown in my driving skills. Now, to be fair, I'm not dismal at the actual act of driving. Sure, I've had a freakout or two (or five) on the highway, but I mean, I can work those neighborhood roads like no other. What trips me up is those two lines that tell you "park here." And you have to turn at the exact right moment, because, as it turns out, a gold minivan doesn't want a lovely purple streak on the side, no matter how punk it looks. Hey, I could start a trend: highlights for cars. But since that probably won't be a thing for at least another year, I gotta face the facts that you must estimate the distance, angle, and length of the parking space, and that room for error only exists if you a thousand bucks to spare. And so, with the hopes of not being that person who takes the bus until they're 80 years old, I shall face my nemesis that is math class.

Also, that whole graduating thing is a good motivator for taking math.

Namaste.