I guess it only makes sense that you can't grieve all the time but that seems to make it worse when you remember that you're supposed to be grieving. It's pretty nice during the times when I can focus on something to not be thinking about it but then I remember that I can't call her anymore. Or that I'm supposed to be selling a house in a state I haven't lived in for fifteen years. When it comes crashing back in after a brief moment of peace it makes it feel that much heavier. Like everything weighs too much

Today was supposed to be my first day back in the office in a while, so naturally I'm sick. I think a frustrating thing, in times like this, is not really being able to isolate the variable that's making me feel lousy. I haven't been taking great care of myself, I've barely been home in the past month, and I certainly haven't been getting the best sleep. So is feeling bad today an actual illness or just the consequences of my own actions? Hard to say. I went into the office for a few hours and felt too feverish to

Keeping today's post short and sweet. I went to the launch party for Oshi-Gokko at WonderVille last night, which was a whole lot of fun, and played in my first games tournament in ages. I got washed in the first round but I did lose to the eventual winner of the tournament so I'll call that a win. I am biased on this one, since my friend Mat was one of the lead devs on the game, but I think it's a really delightful two-player arcade cab and a great addition to the Arcade Commons collection.

The game's a sit-down

Five weeks ago, when I found out my mom was in the hospital, I was exactly 25 days into the hundred days straight of writing I had committed to. Obviously I, uh, did not keep up with it after that.

I do not feel particularly bad about taking a break while I was dealing with this. I did a lot of journaling during this time and while it was valuable for me I don't know how much good it would do for my broader writing goals to post the equivalent of a primal scream on my public blog every day.