playing scramble, feelings

My mind meanders through lists of words. I view the grid and while I try to string letters together as time ticks by. How do these people have time to pass messages as the clock slices away at each three minute slot? My eyes turn somersaults finding words longer than three letters.
At zero the graphics change - a revised list of scorers pops up plus the list of all the possible words in the grid, many of which are incomprehensible. Are they plucked from some world dictionary? I wonder who searches them out. Are we being duped? Are we victims of a huge joke? Someone on another part of the planet sniggers as they make up words, the weirder the better.
Even so, when the clock starts the count down the pulse quickens and one hopes one's eyes can pick up the sequences of letters. The fingers slide over the keys, illuminating the developing words and registering their points rapidly enough to lift a player's position and thereby each players word I.Q.
My fingers and brain/hand/eye co-ordination seem so sluggish in comparison, then the laptop freezes and exasperation seethes as seconds melt away. I resent the phone ringing with a minute to go - it equals words/points missed.
There is little give and take. Anyone exceeding the maximum room I.Q. rating is ordered off to higher places. The great grail is the "greenie" - the highlighted word (in green as opposed to blue) scored by only one player. What exultation!

Eventually reason surfaces and I take myself in hand. I return the game to its rightful place and remind myself that in the great scheme of things it is inconsequential and still second to the Great Solitaire - the ultimate panacea when stress levels rise.