I’ve been there a few times, Red. Can’t save a galaxy in an evening though.
I’ve always compared video games to reading in so far as it can be a time consuming hobby. Depending on the game they’re more like a movie than a book. Early on though the parallel was a little easier to draw. A fair amount of imagination was required to connect with pixels. Some games are just games with thinly connected strands of premise to hold the world together. Others are a story you experience. Sometimes, like a book, you’d do just about anything to finish one more chapter, but your body simply can’t take any more.
I read every Harry Potter book past 3 in one or two sittings. I mean I scheduled my days off around them. When something really grabs me I’m the type that will power through to the end. With games I’m like that too except you can’t power through them in quite the same way. It’s a little harder to figure out exactly how long it’s going to take. Which is how I end up waiting years, in some cases, to finish some games. I knew once I committed to finishing Mass Effect I’d want to go as hard as I could so it wouldn’t make me obsess all day trying to get back to it. Results have been mixed. My life doesn’t allow the kind of marathon gaming that it used to, and my body protests as well. Being in ridiculously bad shape doesn’t help that either. Scoff if you must, but if you intend to do anything for hours at a time having a healthy body facilitates that much more easily. That should give you an idea of just how fat and unwell I truly am.
With the Teen around my access to terrible food has increased to dangerous levels. Part of the reason I didn’t buy that stuff is the same reason I never started drinking. I know myself well enough to know I can’t control myself. Which is why I’m dying at a much faster rate than I should be right now. Before, I could maintain my normal level of unhealthy; now I’m sliding significantly faster toward the grave. Unfortunately she’s at an age where, in spite of the death of her father due to similar circumstances, my demise is just a pretend thing that can’t happen. When I protest grocery choices I’m being mean, when in actuality I just don’t want the instrument of my destruction to be a Dorito.
I know I’m playing this off as kind of a joke, but the fact of the matter is I am in mortal peril.