write a few pages in which you obsess over something meaningless

 There are few things in life that offer the sense of quiet satisfaction like untangling a pair of headphones. Sure, there are grand accomplishments—writing a novel, winning a championship, mastering a difficult recipe. But none of them bring the same, immediate gratification as unraveling a knotted mess of wires. This, this is the true pinnacle of achievement. Some might scoff, claiming it’s trivial. But what do they know? They’ve never experienced the slow, steady victory of freeing a pair of earbuds from the coils of their own design.

Let me set the stage. There you are, with a pair of headphones you haven’t used in days, sitting in the bottom of your bag, or perhaps just carelessly tossed on the counter. You need them. The urgent need to listen to something, whether it’s music or a podcast, drives you to retrieve them from their resting place. You reach in, and there it is—the horrifyingly familiar sight of tangled, impossible knots. The cables are now a labyrinth of misery, folded into themselves like some kind of cruel, unwelcome puzzle.

At first, there is disbelief. How could they have gotten so tangled? You just put them away neatly last time, didn’t you? You remember carefully wrapping them around your hand or tossing them into the pouch with minimal effort, knowing that you would deal with the knotting problem later. But the knots don’t care. They are indifferent to your planning. The mess is all there, a thick knot that seems to have sprung up out of nowhere. You could have sworn these headphones were meant to stay tidy, but now you stand before them, already defeated.

But there is a strange joy in this moment of defeat. The headphones, though entangled, have given you a challenge. You cannot just yank them apart; that would only make things worse. No, the process must be deliberate. Every tug, every gentle nudge is a battle between patience and frustration. Your fingers work like the most delicate surgeons, carefully working through the knots one tiny twist at a time. It’s almost meditative. The longer you spend untangling, the more it feels like the universe is handing you a tiny, manageable problem in a world of chaos. You’re not trying to solve the world’s problems right now; you’re solving a very personal one.

As you work through the wires, the first few tugs seem pointless, as if the knot is only growing tighter. But then, at long last, you notice a loop slowly loosening. It’s a small victory, but it’s enough to fuel your determination. Each little unraveling is a small, clear win that builds on itself, creating a momentum that is utterly addictive. You start to feel like you’re in control, as if you are the one masterfully sculpting the chaos into something sensible.

In fact, I think that’s part of the allure. Untangling headphones isn’t just about getting them ready for use; it’s about putting order to something that’s been randomly jumbled. It’s the same reason that people enjoy organizing their bookshelves by color, or alphabetizing their spice racks. It’s the attempt to make something chaotic, something that seemingly has no structure, into a form you can understand. It’s not about the destination, it’s about the process—the slow, incremental work of straightening something out.

Somewhere between the slow motions of unwinding the knots and the initial sense of desperation, a sort of reverence begins to form. Each knot seems to have a story, a memory of the last time you stuffed the headphones into your bag or pocket, never thinking they would become a Gordian knot of frustration. Each tug takes you back to that moment, where you acted thoughtlessly, only to now face the consequences of that carelessness. The headphones, now a mess, reflect your own tendency to leave things unfinished, yet in untangling them, you are also making a statement: you are the one who takes control. You can clean up after yourself. You can fix this mess, even if it’s as small and inconsequential as a few tangled wires.

And then, the breakthrough. You finally find the last knot, the one that had been eluding you for the past several minutes. The final tug loosens the final twist, and the headphones spring free. It’s a moment of pure joy. The wires are no longer in a knotted heap. They are long and straight, ready for action. You are free. You’ve done it. The victory is yours.

And yet, there’s something absurd about how deeply satisfying this moment is. It wasn’t difficult. It didn’t require skill or expertise. All it took was patience, a little bit of time, and a willingness to sit with something frustrating. But there’s no denying that, in the world of minor daily tasks, this one stands out. Untangling headphones doesn’t change the world, but in that fleeting moment, it feels like you’ve accomplished something. It’s small, it’s silly, but it’s your victory.

I sit back, looking at the now-tidy headphones. They lie there in their unknotted glory, a symbol of persistence, patience, and the power of small things. The satisfaction lingers. It's not a giant task, but it doesn’t need to be. In a world full of chaos, there is a rare peace that comes from untangling something simple, something that, for just a few minutes, was completely out of your control.

And so, I’ll wait until the next time they’re thrown into my bag, tangled in a mess. I know it will happen again, and when it does, I’ll be ready. Because no matter how small the problem, there is always the joy of solving it.