Today we played Arkham Horror for the first time since we became parents. Possibly dealing with the squamous messes in a baby’s nappies makes you less keen on encountering eldritch (and slimy) horrors in fiction. Our child, perhaps feeling left out (particularly after my wife wouldn’t let me name her Ftagn) was silent until I saved the world with the final dice roll of the game. By that point we’d ruined property prices in Arkham by leaving Byakee corpses everywhere, our potent team of a hobo with a shotgun and a David Copperfield wannabe not doing much apart from going insane until the final confrontation, when we finally got it together.
Our child was unimpressed by this and could only be placated by being fed. Which I’m sure is nice for her, but a little bit troublesome for us. Still, her first month on the planet is almost complete: if she’s good, perhaps she’ll get a cake to celebrate.
I wrote five lines of dialogue for a script today. At this rate, I’ll have a complete first draft by the end of the century. It’s sometimes hard to fit being creative in around fighting monsters, sorry, spreadsheets, but if we can’t take a break from adding up columns of data every once in a while, what can we do?
We can give the Automatic Comedian a job in the office, that’s what.
My wife baked more today; I came home to encounter several pounds of coconut cookies. A woman with an oven, a Pinterest account and some spare time is quite the many-splendoured thing. If she didn’t pause to care for our baby from time to time, I can’t imagine how fat I would get.
The other thing my wife did was extract the latest London Review of Books from the mailbox. It arrived two weeks late and I was beginning to get tetchy, until I realized that it was incorrectly addressed and it was only by some feat of kindness on the part of SingPost that it had ever arrived. Which was nice. Instead of reading it, I read about Detroit going bankrupt, one of those things that feels simultaneously surreal and expected, and then fell into bed. I hope tomorrow is more eventful, or at least more coherent.