The smell of roasted chicken pulled me out of bed, and I stumbled into the kitchen, still half-asleep. Outside, the sun hung high in the sky, its light sharp and bright but doing nothing to cut through the icy air that seeped through the windows. I patted my pockets, then the table, then the couch—my glasses were gone again. I squinted at the blurry shapes around me, muttering under my breath as I crawled on the floor, feeling around like a madman. Nothing.

School came next. Seven classes stretched ahead of me, a mix of German and English. In English, the teacher handed out worksheets with sentences like “The cat sits on the mat” and “She is reading a book.”I glanced at the clock, tapping my pen against the desk. My mind wandered to German class, where we’d been dissecting complex sentences and debating subjunctive moods. Here, in English, I found myself translating the simple sentences into German in my head, just to make it interesting. “Die Katze sitzt auf der Matte.” It felt like child’s play, but it made German feel clearer, sharper, like a puzzle I’d already solved.

Back home, I slumped into a chair with a steaming cup of tea, the warmth seeping into my hands. My laptop blinked to life, and I clicked into Merging Farm. The screen lit up with rows of golden wheat, rainbow carrots, and fluffy chickens pecking at the ground. My fingers flew across the mouse, merging crops, feeding animals, and trading resources with other players. The rare Golden Sheep I’d hatched last week trotted across the screen, its fleece shimmering. I’d spent weeks grinding for this—hours of clicking, dragging, and merging.

Then came the moment I’d been waiting for. I merged the last few items, and the Mystical Oak Tree sprouted in the corner of my farm, its branches heavy with Golden Acorns. I traded them for a Crystal Egg and an Emerald Hammer, tools that would make the next level easier. A pair of Starry Foxes appeared, their sleek, glowing forms darting around the farm, sniffing out hidden treasures. I leaned back in my chair, a grin spreading across my face.

But as I stared at the screen, my wrist aching from all the clicking, I couldn’t help but laugh. All this effort, all this time, and it was just a game. A glorified clicking simulator. Still, there was something satisfying about watching my little farm grow, pixel by pixel.

Later, I cracked open my linguistics textbook, the pages filled with diagrams of phonetics and syntax. My highlighter moved across the page, marking key terms as I compared them to the German grammar I’d been thinking about earlier. The day had been a mix of monotony and small victories, but it felt good to end it with something that made my brain work.