Tuesday, November 13, 2018

*cough* Shore *cough*

In an odd turn of events I have time two days in a row to right and I am at a loss as to what to put down. This often happens when playing a longer game. At almost 40 hours into Red Dead Redemption 2 it is approaching JRPG length territory. I know that I am in the last chapter but I also know that there is a ton of post game content - real missions, not the janky hunting nonsense, so it looks like I will be on this game for at least another week.

My initial displeasure with the combat has tempered from burning hatred to a smoldering disdain. It is always there, waiting for a combat heavy mission to heat it up, and heat up it does every single time I need to shoot someone from horseback.

My opinion of Morgan has softened as well. I cannot say why, not yet, but his change of nature does feel genuine, even if it was forced upon him. He was a bad man, he knows he was a bad man and accepts it, but in the time he has left he is trying to do what is right within the confines of a ever more homicidal gang led by a man whose sanity left him two states ago. He is almost a tragic hero. Almost.

If he could say 'no' to Dutch just once it would tip the scales more firmly in his favor. Just once, Morgan, stand your ground just once.

I predict that this will happen and that it will not go well. This is not a spoiler, this is a well informed guess. Rather, it is what I would do if I was writing the story.

...

On a non-gaming note, a few months ago I was forced to change jobs. I landed a new one quickly at the same rate of pay but am, to be polite, not entirely thrilled with it. Working from home means that I never leave work. My workload is not currently that high but it could be at any moment. I spend a great deal of time waiting for other people to do their jobs, and even more time just worrying. It is impossible to mentally punch out at the end of the day.

The same thing happened to me about seven or eight years ago when I did by brief time as a systems administrator. That job kept my up at night, this one does not, yet, but I have been keeping less beer in the house because I find myself really wanting a fucking beer, sometimes before the day is done.

I should not complain. I live something of a charmed existence, both personally and financially. Do I need a job? Yes. Would I have lost my house if I did not have a job? No. I need a job to keep me and my family  in the lifestyle to which we have become accustomed. Saying it that way makes me sound, and feel, like a gigantic asshole.

There seems to be very little of 'me' left in a day. Jobs that provide that are either few and far between or imaginary, I am not sure which. But I have to do something. So I applied for a job at my climbing gym yesterday and just laid it all out the line. I am looking for full time hours doing just about anything - teach me to set routes, run classes for kids, do orientations, anything. I put in the comment section that I am tired of working a desk job and want to be involved with something I care about.

They have not replied, nor do I expect them to, but the act of submitting that application felt good. It felt like a small act of rebellion. Just a little bit of me in the nine hours of not me.

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