Eat, sleep, quiz, repeat
I wake up - I think of the quiz.
I eat meals - I think of the quiz.
I get into bed - I think of the quiz.
I sleep - I think of the quiz.
It is all-encompassing. Any spare moment, and I'm thinking of ideas for questions, rounds, or stupid intros.
You'd think after more than a year of this silliness I'd be pretty handy at an in-person pub quiz. But no. I attended a pub quiz on Sunday and was part of a team that finished ninth out of 10.
So does this just highlight the futility of life? Working away at something for months on end with no real world benefit? Maybe.
But I do it for the love of quizzing. For the buzz of 25 questions. The thrill of competition.
And the thought that I've made someone swear at their phone or laptop because they don't know what the flag of Mozambique looks like.
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