I wrote this entry on the 24th June, 2005. Subsequent events (documented herein) prompted me to forget to post it. I'm posting now to fill a gap while I compose a horrifying account of recent events... startling!

As a computer geek, I have a mandatory video game persona. I explored this fully before and during my university years, but wantonly smothered it in the middle of the night just before I entered the workforce. The kind of late-night self abuse one subjects oneself to is just not viable if one must maintain steady working hours.

A unique opportunity arose a few weeks ago when I learned that I would be bedridden for a few weeks due to some head-altering surgery. I knew I'd have some serious me time ahead of me because I'd probably have bloodied bandages wrapped around my battered cranium, and would probably be on all types of perscribed drugs.

So I decided to coax my little gamer child out of his dark closet. I went down to EB and purchased World of Warcraft. I knew perfectly well how addictive this game could be, and I knew that it would totally consume me in a way that was only safe in an environment where I could hermit myself for weeks on end.

Little did I realise how much pain I would be subjected to post-op, however. After sleeping a good 40 or so hours straight (though annoyingly enough being woken for drugs and checkups every hour) I managed to drift off home somehow and found myself in my own bed at home. But if I forgot to take my pain-killers every three hours I'd be subjected to the kinds of cranial torment you would only expect those 'Whack-a-Moles' to suffer.

I struggled into the computer seat and hooked myself up where I knew I needed to go. I connected and started playing. And now I constantly find myself losing all track of time... yes, I am subjected to a weird kind of masochism where I immerse myself until my head fells me, when I go and take drugs and suffer for the next 45 minutes until they kick in, whereby I jump back onto the machine and start the cycle all over again.

I dance around in a semi-lucid state, mumbling to the various well wishers that come around and try to suck them into my Warcraft world. So far Director Bob and my two brothers have acquiesced.

My character is buff, and my ear is killing me.