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I went over to Bothell tonight, after taking the girls skating, and had a game of Blood Bowl where I won 4-1 with my ratmen, against a team of frogs that had wrecked my team in the preseason and we’d never quite recovered from the beating. So that was nice. My opponent started getting in a rage about halfway through, when he’d exhausted what little luck he had and my rats were continuing their viciousness (Stuart Little bagged four casualties) but by the end he’d at least recovered to the point he’d hospitalized two of my best players. The big meanie.

I drove home, exhausted both mentally and physically (I forgot to have anything to eat at the boardgame cafe) and then realized when we were home that because of thr drywall preparation, there was no way to get to the fridge, the cooker or indeed the plates. But as part of the prep, they moved the fridge forward allowing us to finally recover Destroyer’s drone, after I piloted it behind the fridge by accident months ago. So that’s good, right?

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