Pneumatic Dreams

The other night, I had a dream that I was playing Skyrim. It was vivid, too: I felt the rain on my face as I raised my sword and slew Daedra. I could smell the lush flora mixed with the muted decay of an ancient stone fortress. (Obviously, my subconscious didn't quite get the climate of the frigid northern province.)

My dream so moved me that I literally woke up out of breath, such was my desire to play the latest chapter of the Elder Scrolls. That, or else I had some sort of serious respiratory infection.

Upon catching my breath (which was disturbingly hard to do), I dutifully began installing Oblivion. "The next best thing," I vowed to myself. Truthfully, this has been a long time coming; I had meant to play through Oblivion more than three times previously.

Twice I gave up after my characters became unplayable due to the game's inherent design, and twice more due to Alienware's dubious hardware. (I've told that story before, haven't I?)

This time, though, I imagined myself carefully analyzing the skills I could control and leveling up in a rigid pattern that would net me the maximum attribute bonuses possible. Oh yes, I'm that kind of nerd.

I realized how serious my illness was when I woke up three days later, with Oblivion installed and ready and yet steadily neglected. I had spent the entire intervening period in bed, coughing all the while. Oh, there was a brief sojourn to the doctor's office at some point, followed by x-rays and super antibiotics. Its sort of a haze for me, to be honest.

All I know is that when I have time off from everything but bed-rest, I ought to be playing games. That I couldn't muster the energy to sit in a chair is testament to the severity of my indisposition.

Today's the first day that I actually feel up to sitting in my chair, though sadly I'm not sure I can do all that much else quite yet.

Do you ever dream of video games? That's something I'd like to further explore, but I think that it'll save for another post.

Stay healthy!