Streets of Hope

Sorry about that, folks. The Work Monster hath laid its ginormous paw-shaped thingy on me. Made a bunch of offhand purchases with the Steam Summer Sale, but fuck it if I have any time for myself, honestly. Most of the past few weeks have consisted of a Sims-worthy routine that usually ended with me collapsing in bed around 10 PM.

The good news is that's about to end. The translation office's hit a low, so I'm looking forward to a month of near-joblessness. I'll see about getting some stuff done in here, thanks to that. I'll drop by HipChat a little later tonight, maybe in an hour or so. I'm forced to stick around with the dog while the folks take care of the garden before going to bed.

Good to know you're alive, bro. Got anything saved up to show for all that work?

I could've splurged and gotten myself a new rig, but I really need to start putting some dosh in my retirement plan. I did exactly that. Screw immediate fun, I want to be able to George Wilson it up, once I hit those oft-promised Golden Years. Of course, the most I can hope for is basic post-work financial security. Twenty years ago, the idea of kicking it off at about fifty-five and spending twenty years doing jack shit seemed feasible. That really isn't the case, anymore, and I'm kinda glad. My job security's still nonexistent, so even if I have to stick by the grinder an extra ten years, I'll eventually have enough to stop without thinking I'm killing myself.

Otherwise, those paychecks covered the Steam Sale and Grandma's upcoming birthday gift. I didn't know what to get her, she joked about wanting a water gun once or twice - and I figured I'd surprise her by taking it literally.

I got her this bad boy:

Did the work monster snatch you up again, Leam?