I have not yet determined if I truly miss playing online for cash; but then again, I didn't do too much of it. Maybe a couple times a week, at most, and that was low stakes 8 Game, often with my pal, Stan. some folks I know are working around the hole that was left in their poker lives, and although invited, I have declined, even though I monitor, should I get the bug again.
Others, having found or feel nothing else is worthy to note, no doubt, will disappear from the face of this virtual world in search of a more meaningful relationship than with the gerbil on the wheel in the age next to the computer's station. Too harsh? Too soon?
Still others have found renewed purpose and advocacy, so it's not all doom and gloom. Perhaps more of a way to titre off.
I find myself wondering what December's blogger gathering in LV will hold, who will still be wearing black, and who will be shagging like old flames from high school days. Myself, and in a perfect world, I prefer wonder over closure. (Just thought I should clarify, for there is talk of going.)
The dungeon received its semi-annual once-over yesterday. More needs to be done but the scraps of paper and post-its have been triaged, and actual paperwork piled for processing tomorrow. Or the next day.
The new/old sculpture is 3/5 finished. My laptop screen is cluttered. Books call. Correspondence is neglected. And that's not the half of it.
And I'll certainly have the time, what with the wind and the rain. That's what I tell myself, as I find a empty spot to nap in the rabbit hole.