Sixteen puzzles and a total of 2,194 pieces were put together in the span of about 10 hours in my house last night. So how’s my quarantine going you ask?
I lost my mind.
For the sake of full disclosure, I have a very addictive personality. I’m not talking about nostrils and needles, but the other stuff: gambling, golf, Madison Ivy. You know, regular guy shit. I won some money but lost a lot more. I shaved 20 strokes off my handicap but I used a bunch of strokes … uhh, elsewhere.
The point is I got addicted to doing puzzles. It started off very innocently. Just before dinner time, I laid out a solid 550-piece puzzle of two red parrots. It was tough. There was a lot of green and a lot of red. Not gonna lie, I had some help from my roommate/quarantine host/mother. But we got it done after our chicken tacos. 1.
Oh shit. We found more puzzles. A lot more.
I picked the cutest one next: a 100-piece pair of golden retriever puppies, balls included, on a colorful blanket. Quick and easy. 2.
The next was a simple 9×7 bunny in the flowers. When I drive on the roads, I swerve to hit groundhogs and I swerve to miss rabbits. I’m not a monster. 3.
The next one was special to me. It’s the reason I dominated a bunch of dumb Holmes County fourth graders in US geography. You said Vermont and I said Montpelier, muthafucka. You said Iowa and I said Des Moines in a sexy French accent. You said Washington and I asked ‘the state or the capital you simple bitch.’ I was a foul-mouthed fourth grader. 4 – 44 pieces.
If the United States was my favorite puzzle, the endangered animals was a close second. What can I say, I’m a philanthropist. 16-pieces long by a 3-piece suit wide. Five feet long and described as a floor puzzle. I did it on the table because I’m a bad boy. 5.
Alright, it’s getting late. We’re closing in on 10:30. Let’s start a big one and finish it some other day…
LOL. We bust out the diesel 500-piece Noah, his arc and a bunch of badass animals going two-by-two. Couldn’t find a place to stop. If you put the tigers together, you have to put the lions together. And if you get the lions together, you gotta put the elephants together. That’s the latest my poor roommate has been awake in a decade. It was midnight. 6.
She went to bed, but now it was an experience for me. It was rapid fire.
A couple 24-piece polar bears. The easiest one of the night. 7.
A 12×9 pair of pigs. 8.
Same size for the Dalmatian puppies. 9.
Same size for the calf laying in the straw. Double digits.
Switched over to my lone reptile of the night. Still going strong with the 100-piece lizard. 11.
Back to farm animals. Bang. 108-piece pair of horses. Dozey.
More horses. Also 108 pieces. Baker’s dozey.
WAIT A FUCKIN’ SECOND!! Duplicate puzzles cut differently?? What is this shit?
I’m shaken by the multiple horse puzzles. Disheveled. A touch delirious. It’s no earlier than 4:00am. But I fight on. Another pig, 100 pieces. 14.
I did a baby deer. This will be my last chance to rant on this issue, so I’ll take it. The fuckin’ box says 100 pieces. A 12×9 puzzle is 108 pieces. You may be able to sneak that by the suggested ages of 5-10, but not by me. Not today. 15.
Santa Claus. That jolly-ass gift giver. Needed an easy one and St. Nick was the last one. A puzzle made of wood, originally 13 pieces but broken into 17 pieces over time. Sweet 16.
So that’s it. Ten hours of back aches and color matching.
I need sports. I need sports yesterday.