Scrabble Burnout -- Is it time to just walk away?
I'm starting to come to the opinion that it's time to walk away from Scrabble. Or at the very least take a VERY long sabbatical.
Over the last month or so, just before the qualifying tournament for the CNSC, I started experiencing Scrabble burnout again.
Scrabble just isn't any fun anymore. I said to some people at the Mississauga Scrabble Club many months ago (well before Christmas 2010) that I didn't have fun playing Scrabble unless I won. And given that I win only about 40-50% of the games I play, I just don't have fun. Poor sport? Maybe, but I figure I deserve to win more than 40%-50% of my games. And I'm really being serious. If I don't win, I don't have any fun.
I easily spend two to three (if not four or five) hours a day studying flashcards. I don't even enjoy doing it anymore. My commute to work. My lunch hour. My commute home. And another hour or two every evening.
My diet is lousy. Junk and fast food. My sleep schedule is off. My back and neck aches. My condo is a mess. Scrabble is all I do.
Ever since I moved to Mississauga (May 23) and started taking the GO train to work and back, there are times that I look at my flash cards and think, "I don’t even want to do this anymore."
It's no fun anymore.
And then there’s this...
In the last couple months, as a small handful of people know, there has been some nastiness on the part of a southern Ontario Scrabble player toward me. This person is well-known and well-liked by many people but this person has been consistently rude, demeaning, and belittling to me. I don't know why this person has such a superiority complex when it comes to me, but that's the way it is. And since there are no rules being broken, there's nothing I can do about it. And this has been going on for at least three or four years with this person. And I've had it.
But it's just got to the point where it's absolutely toxic for me to be in the same room as this person. And given that this person plays in most southern Ontario Scrabble tournaments, I either have to suck it up, or not go to a tournament that this person attends. I've recently opted for the latter.
Scrabble has stopped being fun. I just don't even care anymore. The Scrabble burnout that I had a few years ago is back. I keep thinking to myself, "How can someone know all the fours, all the fives, bingos out the wazoo, and still barely cling to a 1300 rating?" I've said to a few of you (Sorry, Andy, I know you don’t like me saying this) "I'm just too stupid to play Scrabble." And I don’t even care.
Why bother?
And then, to top it all off, this past Saturday I was at a Farmer's Market, and had brought some flashcards (about 1,000 of them -- that's about how many I study every day) with me to study. And somewhere in my journey, I lost about 60 or 70 flashcards (three sets - cardboxes 2, 3, and 4, each with a rubber band around them). And I would have absolutely no way of tracking what those cards were. They could have been four-, five-, seven-, or eight-letter words. A mix of all of those. No clue.
Great... just what I needed.
So there's where I sit. I'm just ready to walk away. I don’t enjoy Scrabble anymore. I don’t enjoy going to club. I’m just plain burnt out. And I don't even care.
I'm ready to pack it in. Take THIRTY-FIVE THOUSAND flashcards and just throw them away. I don't even care.
Thoughts? And uh... please be respectful, folks.
Over the last month or so, just before the qualifying tournament for the CNSC, I started experiencing Scrabble burnout again.
Scrabble just isn't any fun anymore. I said to some people at the Mississauga Scrabble Club many months ago (well before Christmas 2010) that I didn't have fun playing Scrabble unless I won. And given that I win only about 40-50% of the games I play, I just don't have fun. Poor sport? Maybe, but I figure I deserve to win more than 40%-50% of my games. And I'm really being serious. If I don't win, I don't have any fun.
I easily spend two to three (if not four or five) hours a day studying flashcards. I don't even enjoy doing it anymore. My commute to work. My lunch hour. My commute home. And another hour or two every evening.
My diet is lousy. Junk and fast food. My sleep schedule is off. My back and neck aches. My condo is a mess. Scrabble is all I do.
Ever since I moved to Mississauga (May 23) and started taking the GO train to work and back, there are times that I look at my flash cards and think, "I don’t even want to do this anymore."
It's no fun anymore.
And then there’s this...
In the last couple months, as a small handful of people know, there has been some nastiness on the part of a southern Ontario Scrabble player toward me. This person is well-known and well-liked by many people but this person has been consistently rude, demeaning, and belittling to me. I don't know why this person has such a superiority complex when it comes to me, but that's the way it is. And since there are no rules being broken, there's nothing I can do about it. And this has been going on for at least three or four years with this person. And I've had it.
But it's just got to the point where it's absolutely toxic for me to be in the same room as this person. And given that this person plays in most southern Ontario Scrabble tournaments, I either have to suck it up, or not go to a tournament that this person attends. I've recently opted for the latter.
Scrabble has stopped being fun. I just don't even care anymore. The Scrabble burnout that I had a few years ago is back. I keep thinking to myself, "How can someone know all the fours, all the fives, bingos out the wazoo, and still barely cling to a 1300 rating?" I've said to a few of you (Sorry, Andy, I know you don’t like me saying this) "I'm just too stupid to play Scrabble." And I don’t even care.
Why bother?
And then, to top it all off, this past Saturday I was at a Farmer's Market, and had brought some flashcards (about 1,000 of them -- that's about how many I study every day) with me to study. And somewhere in my journey, I lost about 60 or 70 flashcards (three sets - cardboxes 2, 3, and 4, each with a rubber band around them). And I would have absolutely no way of tracking what those cards were. They could have been four-, five-, seven-, or eight-letter words. A mix of all of those. No clue.
Great... just what I needed.
So there's where I sit. I'm just ready to walk away. I don’t enjoy Scrabble anymore. I don’t enjoy going to club. I’m just plain burnt out. And I don't even care.
I'm ready to pack it in. Take THIRTY-FIVE THOUSAND flashcards and just throw them away. I don't even care.
Thoughts? And uh... please be respectful, folks.