Monday, March 14, 2005

Surviving Warcraft

I've got my play idea and two pages in the vault. The goal is to write another ten by Saturday at 5pm. Warcraft will suffer, but my conscience will be clean.

I don't know what it is about that game, but I can't get enough. My eyes are crusted over and bloodshot from not blinking, my back hurts, my butt's asleep, and there I sit clicking and clacking and slashing away. There's always another quest to complete, some elite creature to kill, or other imaginary goal to crush. I have a level 17 Tauren Warrior who specializes in mining and tailoring. He just reached 7 gold because he's an auction machine. It's an illusory accomplishment that fills me with short-term pride. I should be looking towards the future, not wasting hours of my life in mock battle, stimulating a fake economy with my hand-stitched linen britches, and dreaming about a kodo mount. I know it, you know it. Now I need to pry myself away, both mentally and physically, and get back to what really matters: hours in front of my computer typing out self-congratulatory smut.

Not much else to report. I haven't made any frivolous purchases or yelled at any homeless people lately. I'm slowly making my way through Bill Buford's "Among the Thugs." It fills me with the desire to drink and destroy, but it's a satsifying read and came highly recommended from my co-workers. And I've got my daily gym visit to keep any sociopathic tendencies in check.

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