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...this is more of a good thing than I have the vocabulary to express.
While she's been passing out in Egypt, occupying myself in the absence of EQ2 (no internet at the new house yet) has become a sporadic affair. When not roleplaying, the only other distraction has been offline gaming, which always tends to remind me that I'd rather be in Norrath, if only I had a network connection. Medieval: Total War and Freelancer have managed so far, but DarkStar One doesn't come out for another eleven days and I don't want to spend good money on another one between then and now. I even found myself wheeling out Chessmaster 7000 and playing, which depressed me even more. Six years ago, based on who I was winning/losing to at school and how they did in tournaments, I reckon I could have gone along to one and stood a fair chance of getting to the second round. I'm now having my arse handed to me on progressively lower and lower difficulty settings that I would have made light of before, down to the point where it's almost too embarrassing to continue. I was never particularly good, but surely I was never this bad?
Anyway, the weekend...
Friday comprised a conference that could have been better in Bristol, which overran by well over an hour and left me getting back what I thought was too late to get food. Then I found out that Morrisons closes at nine, rather than eight - reason #46 or something like that.
On Saturday, the parents came up brandishing tools, and together we assembled my recently supplied wardrobe and bed frame. They match each other and their designs are very nice, and on top of that the wardrobe has already survived longer than the erstwhile clothing rail did. The bed appears to be perfectly comfortable despite my only being able to sleep in half of it - the mattress hasn't arrived yet, and the jury remains out on when it actually will.
Sunday was spent doing nothing before Emma called to say she'd be in Bath on Sunday morning, after which I was finally able to get enough enthusiasm to play Freelancer and actually enjoy it.
God, I sound like a sad bastard right now.
Roll on Wednesday and committing random acts of crass violence upon the city of Bath - that was definitely the week's highlight. Regardless of how nice it was to see the parents again on Saturday, it would be nice to do so and not be building/moving stuff, which always leads to...frank exchanges of views. I hate arguing with my parents, but when we move things, build things or organise things, I come to feel that there is a delibrate search on for stuff that I have done wrong, and a rush to point them out and put them right in public. Whether this is justified or not, I don't know, but I'm sure that if it's the worst thing I have to say about my parents, I'm still doing a hell of a lot better than a lot of people I know.
While she's been passing out in Egypt, occupying myself in the absence of EQ2 (no internet at the new house yet) has become a sporadic affair. When not roleplaying, the only other distraction has been offline gaming, which always tends to remind me that I'd rather be in Norrath, if only I had a network connection. Medieval: Total War and Freelancer have managed so far, but DarkStar One doesn't come out for another eleven days and I don't want to spend good money on another one between then and now. I even found myself wheeling out Chessmaster 7000 and playing, which depressed me even more. Six years ago, based on who I was winning/losing to at school and how they did in tournaments, I reckon I could have gone along to one and stood a fair chance of getting to the second round. I'm now having my arse handed to me on progressively lower and lower difficulty settings that I would have made light of before, down to the point where it's almost too embarrassing to continue. I was never particularly good, but surely I was never this bad?
Anyway, the weekend...
Friday comprised a conference that could have been better in Bristol, which overran by well over an hour and left me getting back what I thought was too late to get food. Then I found out that Morrisons closes at nine, rather than eight - reason #46 or something like that.
On Saturday, the parents came up brandishing tools, and together we assembled my recently supplied wardrobe and bed frame. They match each other and their designs are very nice, and on top of that the wardrobe has already survived longer than the erstwhile clothing rail did. The bed appears to be perfectly comfortable despite my only being able to sleep in half of it - the mattress hasn't arrived yet, and the jury remains out on when it actually will.
Sunday was spent doing nothing before Emma called to say she'd be in Bath on Sunday morning, after which I was finally able to get enough enthusiasm to play Freelancer and actually enjoy it.
God, I sound like a sad bastard right now.
Roll on Wednesday and committing random acts of crass violence upon the city of Bath - that was definitely the week's highlight. Regardless of how nice it was to see the parents again on Saturday, it would be nice to do so and not be building/moving stuff, which always leads to...frank exchanges of views. I hate arguing with my parents, but when we move things, build things or organise things, I come to feel that there is a delibrate search on for stuff that I have done wrong, and a rush to point them out and put them right in public. Whether this is justified or not, I don't know, but I'm sure that if it's the worst thing I have to say about my parents, I'm still doing a hell of a lot better than a lot of people I know.
