Cat’s got my tongue these days. Not sure what is going on. Maybe it’s Chevy, the same evil cat on the stairs, whose self-possessed maniacal de-buff on poor Beau causes the entire house to be in an uproar. Chevy is clearly a warlock. CLEARLY. The German Shepherd? Warrior, naturally. Little boy? Hmmm…Discipline priest using Leap of Faith or a gnome paladin? (Oh, we need gnomes in every flavor, Blizzard – make it so!)
What is it about certain duties that intimidate us? I wish my friend Breige could know this mathematical formulae: consider I have three cloaks, working on a fourth – that means I have done at least 720+ “looking for” kinds of things – minimum. Consider how many terrible, and I do mean, terrible, tanks I’ve suffered. One out of every three instances usually has a green, DPS-geared, un-gemmed, un-enchanted, and here is their worst crime: unimaginative player who hopes that no one notices. Half the party leaves after the first trash pull/wipe. In fact this morning, Momokawa has seven more Titan Runestones to collect, and just couldn’t stomach another LFR with dead players, bats, and general player mischief. I’ve kind of hit the wall on a few things, actually, and am nursing an upset stomach today. All my stress about worrying about CD Rogue and other things hits me right in my gut. I think to myself, “Why not let Luperci give it a shot?” And then I react just like Beau – too scared to move forward, and conflicted while ignoring the high-pitched baby voice beckoning me forward.
Chevy the Evil Stair Cat might also be a metaphor for not receiving a Beta invite. No matter. What my dear friend Dahahka doesn’t understand is it’s not that I am so enamored with WoW anymore, I’m just not in love with pixelized pastimes in general. I feel like I’ve gone through an all-you-can-eat buffet line that costs a lot of money, but got filled up on bread. Oh well. My paladin deck in Hearthstone fares better for the time being. Until then I’ll wait right here on the steps.