The Sims is an agent of chaos in my life. I'll have a backlog of hundreds of games to play, real world chores to complete, friends to socialise with, but once every year, it'll come for me. "Oh, they've added a new expansion, I might check it out" I say foolishly. "This mod sounds fun, maybe I'll install it," I muse, walking straight into the lion's jaws.
Two weeks later, there I am. It's 4:00 AM. I'm rubbing the sleep from my eyes, aggressively muttering the words "PUT HER IN THE GODDAMN CHAIR" in a tone that won't wake my sleeping flatmates. My sim once again refuses to put his daughter in her high chair, despite there being nothing in his way. I'm way too emotionally invested in the prospect of my virtual offspring getting taken away by psychic, teleporting child custody agents if I can't get my avatar to feed her a bowl of day-old chilli.
Until the day I'm briefly freed of this obsession by an inevitable, rage-quit-inducing crash that eradicates an hour of my progress, there are no gods. No kings. Only Sims.
Two weeks later, there I am. It's 4:00 AM. I'm rubbing the sleep from my eyes, aggressively muttering the words "PUT HER IN THE GODDAMN CHAIR" in a tone that won't wake my sleeping flatmates. My sim once again refuses to put his daughter in her high chair, despite there being nothing in his way. I'm way too emotionally invested in the prospect of my virtual offspring getting taken away by psychic, teleporting child custody agents if I can't get my avatar to feed her a bowl of day-old chilli.
Until the day I'm briefly freed of this obsession by an inevitable, rage-quit-inducing crash that eradicates an hour of my progress, there are no gods. No kings. Only Sims.