Yes, this is enough insanity for two days’ worth.
I am crazy busy. No one cares. Everyone is crazy busy. The other day one of those pets dropped from Black Temple, of which I have an extra, so I thought I would see if Tome needed it. Nope, she’s got it. But what completely nonplussed me is her item level: 662. This is a player who admittedly will not do LFR, Raids, or anything of the sort. She’s not into Proving Herself with Proving Grounds, and she doesn’t need to kowtow to any RNG.
I’ve been raiding for months with both Mataoka and Zeptepi. Mataoka has struggled to get to 660, and Zeptepi is sitting on a fat-stack of 650. They buy as many seals as they can, they spend mountains of gold and crystals, they roll, roll, roll, they try try try, they bounce from one raid team to another (not by choice–that’s a tale for another day) and still WHATDAFUQARETHEYDOINGWRONG?
Last night was the very essence of insanity. I told my buddy Turk if he hadn’t joined I would have rage-quit to end all rage-quits. We waited for people. We had people join, and then waited some more. We waited for wives, and friends, and friends of friends, and alt-switching, and more alt-switching, and no joke: an hour went past raid time before we even pulled the first boss.
And with Spring Forward being a scorching sleep-deprived memory, it felt like four.
I’m not annoyed with the players. I’m annoyed that someone who joined us tend to be slightly….how shall I put this? Never mind. But suddenly, I had no voice again. Those who joined tend to talk, a lot. If anyone says women talk more in Vent than men I’ll punch you in the grieves.
Now, you also need to know this comes on the heels of a bickering moment with CD Rogue about the cooking and serving of food in the Matty-Shack. Again, without going into details, let’s just say it’s a point of contention. We don’t have a spare wife around. Hell, we can barely afford the one we have (*looks away from the bill pile*). If my evenings are spent starting at a screen for a f*cking hour while I wait for someone to take off their pantyhose or shine their nose hairs, then eff-uRNGs give me a F*cking HELM.
I had a text conversation with my leet druid last night, and told him afterwards it was far less of a satisfying raid night, and he told me how he hasn’t played for two months, and hasn’t missed it at all. Getting advice from a young leet druid–yes. Taking it? Not sure I’m that mature. “Go write” was his advice. “Good novels take years to write. Better get started.” And after this last birthday of mine, time is not on my side.
Oh, and I have some Lobster stuff to do, too. Thanks Dah! I’ll get to it, I’ll get to it…someday.
Well, hell, no wonder why no one likes me. I’m a crotchety old biddy. I can’t figure out bloods, or seals, or how to get the RNGs to up my item level.
Oh well, at least I’ve got my looks.