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Talking to Videogames Just Before Watching Lost
Kevin has started working in our local pub. He left home today around 6.30, for his third shift. Natalia went out in the afternoon to return a pair of boots and hasn't come back yet. I fear the canal may have swallowed her. Sissy J, if you must know, has been in Canada for a week now. She is living under snow, apparently.
I almost cried in tonight's episode of Lost. The tears were there, on the edge of my eye-lids, stinging me and ready to race down my cheeks. There's another episode at 9 pm. I'm going to brace myself with a cup of herbal tea, a blanket, dim lights and warm socks. I feel less cynical when I watch TV on my own.
I ate too much cheese this weekend. Now I'm feeling ambivalent towards the pizza in the fridge (my supposed dinner.) I don't mind going to work tomorrow. Let the week speed away and bring me closer to my holidays. I have a tactical strategy in place at my office: divide and conquer. It's working like an ancient charm.
How many Gamecube games do I have? A hefty pile, half incomplete. So, while I'm stuck in Animal Crossing purgatory (4 months worth of weeds to pull out of the snow!), they stare back at me and ask: "Why won't you play us anymore? Why won't you finish us?" And I answer back: "I'll divide thee into two piles. One pile for games I've completed, and another for ones that need to be finished. And then I shall use my holidays to enter you again and attain completion." And there is much rejoicing in the house.
I almost cried in tonight's episode of Lost. The tears were there, on the edge of my eye-lids, stinging me and ready to race down my cheeks. There's another episode at 9 pm. I'm going to brace myself with a cup of herbal tea, a blanket, dim lights and warm socks. I feel less cynical when I watch TV on my own.
I ate too much cheese this weekend. Now I'm feeling ambivalent towards the pizza in the fridge (my supposed dinner.) I don't mind going to work tomorrow. Let the week speed away and bring me closer to my holidays. I have a tactical strategy in place at my office: divide and conquer. It's working like an ancient charm.
How many Gamecube games do I have? A hefty pile, half incomplete. So, while I'm stuck in Animal Crossing purgatory (4 months worth of weeds to pull out of the snow!), they stare back at me and ask: "Why won't you play us anymore? Why won't you finish us?" And I answer back: "I'll divide thee into two piles. One pile for games I've completed, and another for ones that need to be finished. And then I shall use my holidays to enter you again and attain completion." And there is much rejoicing in the house.