At the risk of offending mathematicians everywhere, I have a confession to make.
Numbers are not my favorite thing.
1. I happen to like words w-a-a-a-ay more than numbers. Non-mathematical words, that is. Have you ever noticed how extremely difficult it is to pay a compliment using math terminology? In my own experience, “Your mass looks very nice today,” has never been well received.
Even in the best of circumstances.
2. Math can be difficult to grasp for creative thinkers like me. Let’s face it, there is absolutely no romantic mystery in numbers. If 2+2 always equals 4 every single, stinking, solitary time, what’s fun about that? Make a puzzle out of it like 2+__ =4 and the answer is still the same.
It’s 2, people. Number 3 never even had a chance.
3. And as far as I’m concerned, algebra is just a smoke-and-mirrors technique to get us right-brainers to consider doing math. By sneaking in some letters it makes math appear vaguely interesting. It never works for long. a+b=c inevitably translates in my mind to Anne+Baking=Cookies so I end up with a spatula in one hand and a bag of chocolate chips in the other.
4. Calculus. Need I go on?
5. Lastly, it is incredibly annoying to me that I just numbered all of the things I don’t like about numbers.
Evidence that there must be a tiny pull of mathematical logic buried somewhere deep in my brain.
That must be the part that allows me to enjoy the beauty of symmetrical patterns in nature or the complexity of a simple eight-note musical scale. It might even be the part that draws comfort from the predictable sequence of events that order my existence.
Okay. The truth be known, I don’t really hate math.
But if anyone comes up to me and tells me I look solid, I may have to reconsider.