A Day and Age of Waste
I play a lot of chess. Like a ridiculous amount of chess. Almost exclusively internet chess. It’s almost embarrassing how much time I spend on those 64 squares. My mornings start with a game, my lunch breaks are punctuated by a few blitz and bullet games, and my evenings are often spent in tense matches against strangers from around the world. If there’s a moment to spare, you can bet I’m thinking about how to maneuver my knights and bishops.
Sometimes, when people are talking to me, I will drift off and daydream about, you guessed it, chess.
It all started innocently enough. I was introduced to chess as a kid back before the internet blew up like it did. It happened that I was kinda good. Not ridiculously Bobby Fischer prodigy type of good, but I competed in a handful of competitions as a kid, and I even one a few of them. Then, for whatever reason, I stopped playing when I got into high school and college. I blame girls and my stupid hormones.
But then I got married, got a steady job that pays a fairly decent salary, and I acquired a home, you know, all the things required to be a productive member of society, for the most part. Then I got to thinking, it’s been a while since I had played chess, and I used to really enjoy it. So, I asked around to see if any of my friends and family would want to play chess. And I was met with a resounding, ‘No, that doesn’t sound fun.’ Which is a ridiculous statement, since chess is perhaps one of the most adrenaline-inducing, fun activities that I can think of. But whatever.
I figured, well, the internet has certainly advanced quite a bit. Now there’s multiple languages that have been developed to make the interface and user experience much better than what it was some twenty, or even ten, years ago. So, I type in chess to Google, and up pops chess.com, which I sign-up for and BAM! It’s Pandora’s Box. I can’t stop myself from playing at least ten to twenty games per day.
What draws me in, day after day, is the mental challenge. Each game is a new battle, requiring fresh strategies and a keen eye for patterns. There’s a thrill in outsmarting an opponent, in laying a trap and watching them fall into it. It’s a high that keeps me coming back, move after move, game after game.
But here’s the kicker: for all its intellectual stimulation, chess is also my greatest time-waster. Hours can slip by unnoticed when I’m engrossed in a particularly challenging match. I’ve missed meals, deadlines, sleep, and more social gatherings than I care to admit because I was “just finishing this one game.”
It’s a peculiar form of procrastination. Chess feels productive because it engages the brain, unlike mindlessly scrolling through social media. Yet, it’s still a way to avoid more pressing tasks. Need to write a report? I’ll just play one more game first. Should be heading to the gym? Maybe after this next match. The game becomes an all-encompassing escape, a way to justify putting off the less appealing responsibilities of everyday life.
I’ve tried to moderate my habit. Setting limits, scheduling playtime, even uninstalling the app—all have been attempts to reclaim my time. Yet, like a magnet, I’m always drawn back. There’s something deeply satisfying about the game that other hobbies just don’t match. It’s a mental workout, a way to sharpen the mind, and a source of constant learning. Plus, the online community is vast and diverse, offering an endless stream of opponents, each with their own unique style and tactics.
Ironically, what’s supposed to be a pastime becomes a consuming part of my day. I’ve learned openings like the Sicilian Defense and the Ruy López, studied grandmaster games, and play an excessive amount of bullet games, where each move is made under the pressure of a ticking clock of a minute or less. These pursuits are fascinating, yet they also represent countless hours that could have been spent on more tangible accomplishments.
So, how do I waste the most time every day? By playing chess, diving into the endless depths of strategy and tactics, and losing myself in the dance of pieces on the board. It’s a love-hate relationship, one that challenges and entertains, but also devours precious hours with relentless efficiency.
As I sit here, reflecting on my time spent, a new match beckons. Even now, as I finish this thought and sentence, I’m thinking about rewarding myself with another quick game. We’ll see.
Fred Aiken Writing 