Build a jigsaw puzzle

Remembering you probably have a few, you open your wardrobe and check the storage above the coat racks, and sure enough, there are a few jigsaws from your childhood. You're not sure if you even built any of these before, as you don't specifically recall, but that's fine too! Even though the lids show the completed picture, you'd rather ignore them best you can and let it be a surprise.

You choose one with 1,000 pieces, it says, of nice, fluffy clouds. You don't know if that's a lot or not. Clouds are pleasant but also repetitive and uniform in color, that's probably by design to increase the difficulty.

You pour out the box on the kitchen table, and immediately your first thought is that you hope there aren't any missing pieces, because that's how it would go, isn't it. As you start to assemble the boarder -- standard technique -- your concern quickly becomes, Pop-Tart. He likely smells your fear, because even though this doesn't smell or sound like food he's suddenly more interested in what you're doing than normal. Sure enough, he jumps up on the table without warning, and you quickly pick him up and put him back down, the fatty. He looks smug, like he's on to what you're worried about.

But regardless, you are able to press on, and eventually he loses interest. {if Total Wine > 3}You realize a glass of wine would've gone perfectly with this. In fact, this may not be worth doing otherwise-- You quickly dismiss the thought, knowing how dumb it'll make you feel if you complete it. {endif}As you go, there are several times where you're at a standstill; none of the pieces fit none of the currently fit pieces. After the third time or so this happens, you start making a new micro-nation of pieces. Because at least these are easy enough to recognize. And that grows, and prospers, until... it's surrounded on all sides. Oh, no. This is how politics go, after all. No avenues for escape, your only choice is to integrate. ...It's ALMOST satisfying, however, to fit so many pieces together at once, though they fight you anyway, but then you wonder where the hell all these pieces were before. After that there are only a dozen or two satellite pieces, which you can find homes for easily enough. And, somehow, some way... the last piece goes in. None were missing. The puzzle takes up three-quarters of your table.

You did it. You Beat Being Single. ...Now what do you do with this... do you tear down your hard work? Keep it there, to be slowly ruined by cup stains and such? Do you try to move this thing?? Well, actually, if you were to get some plexiglass from the crafts store, and some picture frame--

As you start to brainstorm framing this masterpiece, Pop-Tart jumps up again and, with the decreased traction of the glossy puzzle, slides across the table and, only barely dragging it with him, tumbles down over the other side, with zero grace and awkwardly bouncing off a chair on his way down, and your puzzle erupts as it crashes, some here, some there. The crashing noise seems to go on forever. Pop-Tart flees the chaos, unaware of what happened to begin with, and disappears. ...There are a few strips of pieces still stuck together. Otherwise... madness.

You go to bed. You have no other choice.