It was the perfect set-up. My darling was going to be late home because he's having some sort of snore torture device fitted (no longer will I need to poke him awake when his snoring becomes too loud - this thing will keep him awake long after I've dozed off) so I would be able to get in through the door, boot up the PS4, and search on the internet for the instructions on how to eject the CD that's already in there because I always forget, and if I try to work it out intuitively I end up in downward spiral of turning it on and off, off and on.
That would give me a good twenty minutes playing time before he was due home. There'd be a pause while he listened to the end of the Panel, which meant I could have a bite to eat, and then I'd be able to take over the television again to my endless enjoyment until I grew tongue-tied with frustration at the failure of the PS4 controller to effectively transmit my intention to the game so some weird alien hell-bent on my destruction would succeed again and again and again, and the only cure would be to throw it against the wall and turn the system off to recover for a few hours.
As you do.
(and yes that is my idea of fun thank you very much for asking you non-game playing life-form)
You may've been able to work out by now that things haven't quite gone to plan.
I'll give you a hint - it's something to do with the thing I was going to put into the console. Something shiny and round and which if you hung it from the rafters outside would keep birds away from your verandah (in theory.)
My joyful gaming experience has been brought to a sudden and inhumane halt by the positioning of a certain game CD in a certain postal service depot awaiting a certain courier driver's return to my certain address because a certain plane didn't make it down from Auckland in a certain time-frame.
And a certain person doesn't need a certain inability to get out of the way of certain death to be certainly hacked off right now.
On the bright side I did take delivery today of three loaves of joy-inducing pumpernickel bread from the wonderful Breadman of Christchurch. For those of you who live in other cities I pity you (or I add this to the existing list of things I pity you for) and for those of you in Christchurch you should look him up online and immediately order some today. Right now. It's worth it. It tastes like a heavy sourdough bread that comes conveniently malted up so you don't even need to worry about putting on the marmite. And for those of you who are looking at me funny right about now, that really is a description of a fine-tasting bread. Trust me.
Also note that the above message is a free public service announcement. I have never accepted money from anyone to advertise their products on this blog, and I never will would in a heartbeat.
Could we get some of that delicious sounding pumpernickel to Queenstown for Christmas. It's ok, you can eat the loaves you got today, but you could always buy some more!
ReplyDeleteLove the big sister of your 'darling'
PS I love that you call him that!