Mess.

Today I made a terrible mistake. No, no one died, or had to call a chiropractor, not that kind of mistake, but a really stupid mistake. I wouldn't be so hard on myself save that this is in a series of about four or five mistakes I've made since July or so, and I think---

---I think I need a vacation from my "vacation."

This is the light garbage in an LFR. I'm not "playing," I'm making sure colored boxes are solid.

This mistake involved scheduling and planning, and because my life and career are structured around a framework of complete control, a modicum of flexibility, and chaos theory sifted and baked into squares, if several of these missteps and miscalculations start to build up, the whole universe, my universe, comes tumbling down. Yes, I have a calendar. Yes, I put things on the cloud, my phone, and sticky notes. But those systems of late--I have failed in my diligence. I do not know why. I have my own theories of chaos: my life is in a big transition phase now, big, big changes (no, not the "yes God it's me Margaret kind, smartasses) but change nonetheless. Because of this error in scheduling, I had time to play WoW today, but didn't really -- I had planned on spending some time, writing posts, etc. I was glad it was Tuesday and thought as soon as the clock strikes 11 am, I'll be on and can see if there's a scourged whelping. I think I was about five after, and my friend immediately tells me there were 80 of them and all snatched up.

Can I tell you something that is going to sound absolutely ridiculous?

And this, I promise, has nothing to do with pixels of virtual dragons.

But I really felt this immense, deep despair in that one second. I really did. Like I had bet the ranch on that pet, and rolled a seven. Like I missed the last train to Clarksville. Like I was the Seattle Seahawks for thirty seconds on Sunday. You get the idea. And it wasn't just that that damn little green paw wasn't there that time, it's all of the metaphorical effing little green paws that never, ever become part of the virtual worlds, and there is not an effing thing I can do.

Prepare for some serious bitching now. Strapped in? Secured your latte? Good.

I am kind of a sponge-person. Wish I was a Spongebob and was happy all the time, but alas, I am more of a Squidward. But what I mean by sponge is when people I care about are going through something, I tend to soak it up, carry it, and don't have many places to get it out of my system. Before the holidays two of my colleagues suffered terrible losses. (Shit, starting to cry just thinking about it...) One was something this woman wants more than anything in the world, and it was taken from her. I wish I could make it better for her, I wish I could change it. But I can't. So what do I do to relax, and take a mental break from real life? I play a fun game called World of Warcraft.

You are all going to think I've lost my mind, and perhaps I have. I'll find it again, I'm sure. I just hit the wall though in game. One more bag of gold for an LFR, one more achievement shy of done, one more asshat tearing down other players, one more insufferable moment where Blizzard could choose, yes, choose to make the game fun for everyone and yet doesn't. They simply don't have to make everything that is fun so god damned hard. What would it hurt to have everyone get a Horseman's pony during Halloween? What would it hurt to have everyone get at least one piece of gear or goody bag in a run? What would it hurt? No one, that's who.

So, I've snapped. And when I snap, God help you all, I make plans.

So here it is.

Starting January 22 through January 28 I am going to take a little vacation from Azeroth. I love it too much to leave it completely, and it is an incredible place. And I want to keep loving it. Because here is the secret about God and RNGs: no matter what, my friends know I am a loyal and funny friend. I am a good friend in the virtual one and in the real one. You can count on that.

And maybe I'll have time to write some more Mrs. Whitworth stories. 

Tome: Thank you.