17th Nov 2008
¦ dialling in from SKy Bunker ¦
07:53 GMT, Monday 17th November 2008. Heavy grey skies above me, dense mist pregnant with rain. “Golden Age” by TV on the Radio is playing by choice. I’ve got creases on my face; my hair (growing back from a buzz cut) is sticking up in tufts; one eye is more squinted than the other, dragging my lips into a neutral sneer. Despite a weekend where most of my spare time was spent sleeping or veging on a sofa, I’m deeply tired. Quite pleasantly so, in one way; frustrating in another way…very little achieved. But, sometimes, I guess you just need to rest.
Some good news from last week: 1) my mum had the thumbs-up from her consultant that both cancers have stabilised – following chemo. 2) The media company I’ve been contracting for the past 13 months turned round and offered me a permanent role: I’ve grabbed it with both hands and feet.
The weekend flashed by in a flux of brain waves. Saturday saw a session of Yellow Dawn – further play-testing of the mammoth “Shadows of the Quantinex“. The characters were up in space – on the Choma Lab habitat, a place that has always been described as the “source” of the Yellow Dawn pathogens. It was one of the best game sessions I’ve played in 27 years of roleplaying, mainly down to the brilliant tension created by the players themselves. It was truly, horror in space.
After an intense week at work, the game left me wiped out. Sunday was a write-off: I made some notes about changes I want to make to the Deep Space chapter of Shadows of the Quantinex, but just could not find the energy to sit down and write them up.
Instead, after a lovely morning snuggled up with Jo, we both headed into town, to the harbourside, and met up with Simon P, Vixter, Orson and friends for a birthday rendezvous (Simon). A really good event. Many faces it was a pleasure to see (Rob C, Ms Scarlet and her chap, Harvey).
Jo had to leave early to catch her taxi to the airport. She’s off to Paris on business. I made my way home alone, but rather than spend the rest of the day in the Sky BUnker working, I built up a fire with chopped logs, and camped myself in the front room with Poirot and other TV creations, or sat with TV and lights off, gazing at flickering flames. Later that night I had phone calls from Paris: Jo describing spotting the powerful sweeping light beam of the Eifel tower from the air as the plane came into land: we both chuckled, recalling a night in Paris in 2007. I went to bed pretty early, thinking my body would wake me up in the wee-hours, giving me a chance to crack on with my work with a fresh mind. No such luck. :o)
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