I Finally Understand Schrödinger’s Cat

From http://hdw.eweb4.com
From http://hdw.eweb4.com

“Schrödinger’s cat: a cat, a flask of poison, and a radioactive source are placed in a sealed box. If an internal monitor detects radioactivity (i.e. a single atom decaying), the flask is shattered, releasing the poison that kills the cat. The Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics implies that after a while, the cat is simultaneously alive and dead. Yet, when one looks in the box, one sees the cat either alive or dead, not both alive and dead.”

 -Wikipedia (More knowledgable than you would think)

Let me not get ahead of myself. I’m no quantum physicist. I will never understand the theory of superposition of matter in the same way as Erwin Schrödinger. If you’ve come to read a heavily research inspired and analytical article on the subject, go ahead and press your back arrow on the taskbar, navigation bar, toolbar, piano bar or whatever the heck that strip next to the URL is called.

The truth is, I am no genius. Sorry, Mom and Dad. I know this because I took an IQ test in high school, and the results hardly screamed, “CONGRATULATIONS!”.

I don’t even have any Real talent. I’m minorly good at a majority of activities, but I have no extraordinary skills. No, Minorly isn’t a word. Yes, I’m going to use it anyway because I like the way it flows.

You see, my drawing abilities rest only slightly above average. I can’t dance; although that doesn’t stop me from pretending I have amazing rhythm. I’ll never be a fearsome fighter, no matter how hard I can flail into a bag. I can’t even read quickly  because my attention span is so brief that even goldfish can’t help but to laugh at me with their bubbly goldfish laughs- whatever those sound like. I wouldn’t know because I don’t live underwater. In addition to all of these failures, my singing is so bad that people actually flee to the closest storm cellar just to escape my seagull like wails. Worse even, I still think that I sound good.

On the bright side, I am able to memorize ridiculous amounts of information fairly rapidly, but that stopped being useful after college. Well, I guess I’m also pretty good at making friends. I’d say my social skills are top notch. EXCEPT ON THE PHONE. (Just ask my coworkers–there is nothing more awkward than me answering calls.) I’m also pretty good at motivating people to do things that I want them to do. That’s something right? And I guess I must have some potential for writing or no one would enjoy reading my silly posts. I may not be a genius, but I guess I’m not completely hopeless after all.

I almost feel it would have been better had I never been curious enough to check my IQ all those years ago. Maybe then I would have spent my life believing I was smarter than I actually am. I could have existed simultaneously as a genius and a non genius, never peering into the box to observe the actual state of my intellect. This is what I’ve come to understand about Schrödinger’s Cat. Unfortunately, like that poor little kitty, curiosity killed us both.

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