2:48 and I have a choice and several objectives before morning. For better or for worse, I signed up with a few friends to engage in full scale war on a small table top tomarrow along with my swarthy posse of battle hungry bretheren, once dubbed "Space invaders" by the crests on our flourescent pink shirts. It's gonna take from 7:30 am to 9:00 pm before I scoot off to work till 4:00 am-ish. So we've got a stoner, a spacer, a nerd herder and an aromatic accented fellow rattling about a not too shabby truck-wagon-thing <--I car guy I ain't) For an hour both ways, an excersise in tedium, no doubt, and a disapointing awards ceremony. Well, it get me out of the house. I'm WAAAAAY too optimistic. Optimistic, you ask? Optimistic. If I was a pessimist I'd have come to my senses long ago. So much for a saturday nap.

It's strange to embark on such an endeavor without the orange haired previously frusturated fellow. He was a hell of a better friend when he wasn't getting any.

Objectives. I have to paint. It's required for the tournament... you know, that thing at 7:30? I don't want to paint. I've had no interest in painting in months... and yet, I have to paint.

I have a couple similar more or less important tasks on the docket... sitting there... chillin.

I hit the old Counter-Strike drug today and cut the day in half. I was pleased to rediscover the joy of facing insurmountable odds and shattering my enemies' resolve, a wraith, scattering their forces and picking them off one by one, their fear leading to doubt, and ultimately, to anhilation. Yes, how I have longed to feel my enemies cries when they come to realise that, from Cerulaeus, there is but one escape.

hmmm.... Ok, a wee bit more gaming..... then tasks ^^