There was a time, not too long ago, when I was oblivious to the joys of puzzling. I spent my free time watching TV, running, and hanging out with friends. I was so lost. Until my friend asked me to do a jigsaw puzzle with them, and suddenly everything was different. I was (no, I am) a changed man. This is my testimony.
I got bitten by the puzzle bug. I eat, sleep, and breathe puzzles. That’s not a problematic relationship to have with puzzles because puzzles are life. If you don’t currently puzzle, you should get a life (AKA, get a puzzle). Every single resource on puzzling strategies is a sacred text. Every surface in my home is just waiting to be blessed by a puzzle.
This is not another hobby I will sink a bunch of money into and abandon for something else after I get bored. I know this because I was chatting with my 1,000-piece puzzle last night, and we both promised to be there for each other forever. We roleplayed for a bit, pretending we were in the puzzle-prohibition era. It was a dark time in our nation’s history where instead of passing violent, transphobic resolutions, the Conservative Party set its eyes on another made-up threat. All forms of puzzles were banned. 1,000-piece was hiding, waiting for me in the speakeasy. I arrived fashionably late, looking like 1,000 bucks (which was a lot back then).
I locked eyes with the “librarian” — the speakeasy is in a secret room under a library, please keep up. I handed her a completed crossword puzzle. She looked back at me, pleased, and said she had a brain teaser she thinks I would like. I followed her; she moved a particularly inconspicuous-looking shelf, and suddenly I was in. I was finally reunited with a beautiful 1,000-piece. I solved her, clandestinely sorting by colour and shape while surrounded by other puzzlers also engaging in illicit activity.
When not engulfed in these tantalizing fantasies, I try to recruit others to join me and start their own puzzling journey. That is actually why I am writing this today. I am facing great injustice. My TA is trying to give me a zero because they didn’t like the idea of having to piece together my essay so they could mark it. As an act of resistance, let’s all attend their office hours and solve puzzles. Regardless of whether or not you feel ready to join the movement, never forget that everything can be a jigsaw puzzle if you carry scissors around.
