Not Wasting My Time Fast Enough

Chris and I were going to try to hit an art flick on Friday, but ran into Adam in Capitol Hill and ended up missing BOTH showings. Blew my shot for fun. Had a fabulous dinner at The Green Papaya, took the bus home and immediately collapsed into bed. Spent the rest of the entire damn weekend working on Academy stuff. Not Mother's Day brunches for me!

It didn't take me long to realize that this week was going to suck, what with the Origins Awards nominees finally being announced. I've heard from people about all manner of things, including the "outrageous oversight" of not including dice ("Without DICE there would be NO GAMES!!!"), board game enthusiasts wondering how the nominees are picked, people railing at me that their favorite products didn't make the cut (or that their product that they worked on didn't make the cut) thus making the awards a joke, a sham, an insult...those who are demanding changes to acknowledge" the recent trend in games released and sold in the PDF format." Oh, its been pure joy, trust me.

Of course, one would think my life revolves around the Origins Awards or something, but that's just my volunteer position, so there's been an abundance of joy involved with my day job as well. That whole pesky day job thing, where I'm supposed to be earning my living and keeping a roof over my daughter's head, by making and selling good games. ("Good" obviously being the subject of acrimonious debate at the moment, of course.) I've had the additional joy of having to track down a rather significant payment that I expected to have arrived weeks ago, dealing with licensors (some of whom have been an absolute joy to work with, others who have been nothing short of hostile and obstructionist), listening to well-respected industry pundits spout off about professionalism all while knowing that when they worked for me they were outrageously late on their projects (and the extensions) without so much as an apology.

But really, what I feel the worst about, while all the outraged Origins howling has been going on was my poor, sweet girl. Kate attended her father's wedding over the weekend, and came home to find her beloved Silky dead in his cage. At literally the same time that I was reading the dozens of e-mails about the "outrage" of this or that thing getting or not getting public kudos, my baby was sobbing her heart out. Pramas writes about it in good detail at his website. I suspect Kate, though 8 years old and utterly brokenhearted (she sobbed in her bed until midnight), will have gotten over her confusion, sadness, and grief over Silky long before the adults in the game industry get over their anger, suspicion, jealousy, and partisan bickering that the Origins Awards seem to bring out in them.