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epitome of incomprehensibility
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...can't be just one thing. My parents' dog Shiloh starts yapping for help when his leash is only wrapped ONCE around a pole, yet he has an excellent sense of direction. Once I was deliberating the fastest way to go between two streets - was I closer to the north or south one? - and Shiloh steered me to a footpath right in the middle of the two, a path I'd forgotten about. (Valois, neighbourhood of many little paths.)
But this in general is where I struggle a little. Numbers? Cool. Shapes? Fun to look at. Trigonometry? A dread; better admired from afar than slogged through.
Right now I'm not doing trig. I'm just trying to print some more copies of my old, self-published poetry chapbook. Which should be easy enough, but...
Friends, Romans, blatherskites, I had to do three test prints just to realize how the first pages have to be aligned - what direction the papers have to be put into the printer. When there are only really two ways. Ugh. I wish I had more intuition for stuff like this.
Or...maybe not? I like to pore over maps, maybe *because* I can't just look at them and memorize them. You don't have to be good at things to find them interesting. Sometimes the fun is in the challenge, the slowness. Tantric geometry for the win!
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