Last night I wrote. I sat down, put on Ofra Haza, poured myself some coffee, dropped in a little jigger or two of some spirits and in between dancing on my butt to Im Nin' Alu I hammered out wordzzzz.
Losing all those pages to the hard drive crash has really tripped me up as I've not fully recreated them. Slow going, almost a chore and that's not good. In the past I used to have time to write 3 or 4 different stories at once. Now, with Gen, Boy Scouts and the SCA, there is barely enough time to do yard work.
Then of course in World of Warcraft, my guild has taken an interest in me. Players are calling me up saying, hey, come on line and we'll work on getting your epic gear. How can I say no? I met a player who in a battle did 1.3 million points of damage. This is compared to the second player who did 59,000. Me? I'm the tank. I don't do damage, I take it and I can just about keep the hate off wonderboy so the monsters focus on me, the healer keeps one person alive and everyone else dumps on the pain. I looked at wonderboy's gear score and he's 277. This is as ugly as it gets. He's a real game monster. But he's taking time to show me the tricks and the places to go to get gear as good as him and that is way valuable.
This leaves no time for D&D and I would like to get back into that again. I think there is more laughter at that long table than anywhere else in the world. We move slowly, but laugh quickly and to me, that's what D&D is all about.
Oh, for the record, there is no D&D 4th. It's a myth, does not exist. Only a bad dream. Go back to sleep, all is well. 3.5 is the version of truth.