So I was pondering on my strange need to play all the way through the end of Solitaire. I have to do it. Even when it's in the bag and I know I'm going to win. I mean, usually when I'm playing Solitaire that means I should be doing something else, like listening to lecture, writing an essay, reading a textbook... So you'd think I'd be able to overcome my urge to play it out.
But no. I must put every king into its place and watch the lovely cascading cards and bask in my victory.
4 comments:
Me too! Maybe it's a hereditary disease? That would make a great study for someone to do. Or maybe you and I are the only ones with this sickness?
i play solitaire during Stats and it helps me pick out the important stuff and not fall asleep. I hope that today is a great day. Oh, it's Valentine's Day. I hate mushy stuff...in public, but I think that I love your guts, feet, and face already.
I think it's probably hereditary. I blame Mom.
While I was at Amy's house I played two games of Solitaire while David, Amy and I were relaxing, chatting, and watching a little television. I found myself asking the same thing: I know I won; why do I have to finish playing all the cards? And I won both times, each time carefully playing the cards to the finish and stacking them all neatly in a pile at the end. (Yes, I played with the real cards...) I don't remember my mother playing Solitaire, but I learned from Grandma Goodrich who played it frequently. And she probably did the same thing...maybe like cutting the end off the pot roast?
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