A Basic Necessity

I must hand it to the person who came up with putting numbers and colors on cards to create a game - you sir, are a genius amongst geniuses. Really, it's such a simple concept. You put one of thirteen numbers and one of the four different designs on a card, repeat it fifty-three more times, and voilà, a set of endless entertainment.

Ever since Freshman year, I have reserved a special place in my backpack. In the zipper pocket next to my umbrella and calculator is a deck of cards. No. Not a deck of cards, for using such weak language undermines its very essentiality. In the zipper pocket next to my umbrella and calculator is the deck of cards. It's the deck of cards that safeguarded me from the - to put it in an eloquent and pompous manner - monotonous, quotidian labor that never fails to impress with the degree of lethargy it induces. In other words, school.

It's the desire, the hope that I'll get to play cards in maybe a couple of classes that gets me out of bed, that pushes me to school, that allows me to retain my sanity. It's a beacon of light in a perpetual ocean of sorrow and anguish. It's the savior sent by heaven to emancipate me from the eternal torment of routine drudgery.

Okay, maybe I'm over-dramatizing it again. But really, it makes the day go by so much faster.