My head was groggy from a day packed with 10As, 2As, and x-hours, but my ears perked up when I heard that terrible word. I shook myself out of the mid-afternoon funk, and proceeded to listen on the conversation heating up amongst the members of my Geography class. People were chiming in on all sides, sharing their horror stories. "When did you first get it?," "Who sent it to you?," "How many games have you played?" or "I've beaten my own high score 100 times." That's right. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Snood. Everyone is talking about it. There's even a web page of it. It's becoming a campus-wide addiction that even leaves BlitzMail powerless That's right, you don't even get the notification of new messages until after you finish a game of Snood.
I first received this enemy of any college student, right before finals started. I think the person who sent it to me said in the subject heading, "This game is addictive. Be Careful." Yeah, thanks a lot. I laughed off her warning, and promptly proceeded to save the enclosure. Then, I played a couple games. "Well," I thought, "This doesn't seem to exciting." "It's actually kind of a stupid game," I told my roommates. I quit and returned to the reserves ... only to discover that while I struggled to decipher my graphs on Monopsony, I couldn't help but feel a strange desire to play another game of Snood.
I shook it off, and plowed through my notes. An hour passed. And then another. As I "lagranged" some functions, I kept hearing a strange noise in my brain. It was the sound of colliding snoods, resonating through my head. I had to get back to my room.
The addiction had begun. Game after game, level after level, you find that you can't put the mouse down. Homework becomes secondary, blitz-versations become fragmented -- regulated by how fast you can get through a game. When my parents call me, I always start up a new game. They ask me what the noise is, and I blame the T.V. I get up in the morning, turn on my computer, play Snoods, and only then do I check my blitzes. I play before I go to sleep each night and I play when instead of seeing the characters in my Chinese textbook, I picture the little snoods. I play until I get another high score, then I play another to try and beat that, and than a third for good measure.
I had a hard time trying to explain my grades to my parents. Somehow I didn't think it would be in my best interests to say, "Gee... mom, dad, I guess I just couldn't stop playing Snood." Use me as a valuable lesson. If anybody sends you this innocent looking enclosure, delete it. Quickly. Don't fool yourself into thinking that you strong enough to resist. Once you've played a game, you're finished. Be forewarned: You can't escape it. Trash Snood.
