Friday 2 May 2003

Pic of the day: Main characters in today's entry.

Post-shopping depression

Full day at work today again. On average I only work 90% this year, but right now is not the time to shave off those 10%. I have a special task ... But I am not supposed to write about work, although Light knows I could write much more than I did ...

Anyway, this year I've been more careful with my arm and wrist. I know I said last year that I would take a sick leave in April to avoid a longer sick leave in May and June, but I have avoided it so far. Got others to take some of the work before I got too bad, and stayed aware of the neck muscle where the problem begins. Once that muscle locks up, the whole arm is set to follow suit.

It probably helps that I have written very little fiction this spring, and played mostly Dark Age of Camelot. DAoC is rather nice on my hands when I am playing alone. Especially since I mostly play a very defensive paladin. I cast a provoke spell on a blue-con monster (slightly below my own level) and then I can do something else while the battle resolves blow by blow on my computer screen. Playing in groups is much worse: A paladin is expected to organize things even when not group leader; it kinda goes with the class. Our primary function is to improve group dynamics on a tactical level (group leader should have the strategy). We keep the casters safe, protect and assist the healers, enhance the fighters, and resist the onslaught of the enemies, all at the same time. It is a class that is best played by mothers of large families, but more generally adults. And it requires quite a bit of fast typing to pull it all off. Luckily I have this months been able to group often with experienced players who know their roles and work in a seamless group.

***

Today I bought a flat-screen monitor. I have a couple computers standing around without a monitor. In time I may have a small network in the living room. But before that, I may need a container to clear out the stuff that fills both of my desks to near eye level ... I know for sure that I should have several mains cables, since there comes one with each computer and only one is in use now; but I cannot see them. They could still be there, of course, somewhere in the prehistoric layers on my desk. Excavations are postponed, though, because of the risk of cave-ins ...

[Addendum: Found a mains cable in bedroom, beside the lava lamp. And don't look at me like that; I know lava lamps are considered more decorative when viewed through a haze of brain-altering chemicals, but I don't use it that way. My brain is already unusual enough as is.]

After buying the monitor, I was disappointed to find that there was no influx of happiness. I had not expected a big surge of happiness, but surely a trickle of joy would not be too much to expect when you shell out like $400 for a cool new product. (It is literally cool ... draws much less power and emits much less heat than the big old tubes.) I mean, the point of Buying Stuff is to get a surge of happiness; otherwise you might as well pay tax or something.

The lack of emotional reward depressed me, and I started to think about how futile everything is: The universe is like a dying child's dream, its beauty and its drama rendered meaningless by the fact that it will be gone forever with no memory left to its name. Of course, some of us try to look at certain inexplicable historical events as proof that there is a Higher Being, transcending this universe, who takes an interest in our tiny ant-like lives. But even if so, I thought to myself, it is unlikely that such a Higher Being is going to remember a flat-screen computer monitor.

But as usual my apathy did not last for long. I remembered the fact that I had been happy already before I bought the monitor. So I went back to doing what I did before, and was happy again. After all, what does my apathy help the universe? The dreaming child is still not dead, and I will rather hold its hand and stay in the dream till it ends. Since we first became human, we have known death. The universe always ends, once for each of us. The joys and sorrows of the world after that is none of our concern. We appear, then we disappear. To the dust motes dancing in the sunshine it must appear that all things end at the edge of the sunbeam; and we know no more of the beyond than they do. Only faith, hope and love remain at that edge.

You'd think I would have learned that by now.