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Archive for June, 2012

Ted #5

Wednesday, June 6th, 2012

It’s 1:30am on a Thursday. Ted Hargraves has §18 to his name. He’s chatting online and seems happy enough, before forcefully smashing his face on the keyboard out of frustration. Well that came out of nowhere. No thought-bubbles came up to explain what any of that was about. Someone other than me is trolling Ted? I don’t know how I feel about this. I thought we had something special, Teddy.

He’s made a friend called Dave. Dave is single and seems nice.

His energy is low and he reminds me of this when I suggest he find a job. He whinges. Apparently there’s a difference in expelled energy when chatting online than when job hunting online. No dice, Count Tedula, get in there! You need a job by morning. You can’t even afford to pay one bill and there’s two waiting. Shit just got real, son. Whatever options come up on this online job search, he’s taking one of them. The dream of a writing career is fraying and giving way to the realities of bills and home-ownership. He’s not Robinson Crusoe there, as they say.

Professional Sports Career – Rabid Fan.
It’s hard to imagine Ted as a rabid anything really. Other than pants-wetter. Only §13 per hour. 3pm – 9pm. MTWT_F_.

Culinary Career – Kitchen Scullion.
Potential to set self on fire or impale oneself, high. §25 p/h. 3pm – 9pm. MT__FSS. At least that one has two days off in a row. Would be hard to see any friends though with no weekends.

Political Career – Podium Polisher.
Probably what would most excite Ted. What better place to learn the power of words than in the political arena. The speech writer might get sick one day and they ask Ted to help out. This could turn into a writing gig… §24 p/h. 9am – 3pm. MTWTF__. Promising.

Medical Career – Organ Donor.
I wonder if he gets to choose which organs? §22 p/h. 9am – 3pm. MTWTF__.

Business Career – Coffee Courier.
Well I guess there’s a lot of copy flying around in the business world? Oh coffee. Right. Baw. §27 p/h. 8am – 2pm. MTWTF__.

Not the difficult decision I was expecting really. At least he didn’t have to choose between military and roadie. A career in politics is an intimate relationship with words. He’s going to see how they’re used to inflate people, tear people down, bully people, inspire people, and change the laws we live by. He could be the next Aaron Simkin.

Ted takes the job, and begins his political career. He seems genuinely pleased. I hope he’s going to be okay. If a job in politics isn’t depressing I don’t know what is…

This new job couldn’t come soon enough. Not only for his bank balance, but during the night he gets -15 to mood for being “Stir Crazy”, with the caption saying “Sims should leave the house frequently for sanity’s sake. Shake well with a community marinade for best results”. Interesting. Work will get him out of the house, but perhaps one day he should go for a walk into town.

He takes himself off to bed at 3:30am (!!!!!!!). He dreams almost solely of his new job. International flags (the kind you’d see lined up at the UN), ballot slips, and podiums. He isn’t giving off the vibes of a person disappointed in their career choice. He’s excited. Actually, I think I just saw him smile in his sleep.

Amy #4

Monday, June 4th, 2012

Hunger pangs grab Amy right in the guts as she makes her way to the fridge. She’s never cooked herself a meal. The stove is pristine. She always grabs whatever is easiest from the fridge. Toast and jam, cereal, things she can just take without having to prepare. I wonder if Sims ever get constipated. She’s heading that way if they do. She’s chosen ice cream for dinner again. Grown ups, yo. They can do whatever the hell they want.

Back to the goddamn window again. Oh for fuck’s sake, Amy.

Her social bar is ludicrously low and she hasn’t had any neighbours pop by to meet, so she can’t call anyone on the phone for a chat. She’s getting lonelier by the minute. Her mood is starting to be effected.

She saved herself §50 by unclogging the toilet herself so maybe she deserves a little something special. A way to get to know people while in her own home. She has §740 in the bank, so I decide to get her a computer as a present. I sell the ugly concrete structures in the dining area and the two lamps from the lounge, bringing the bank account up to §1,084. From this I get the cheapest desk available (§150), the cheapest chair (§50), and the cheapest computer (§800). §84 left in the account. Risky maybe for someone with no job, but _anything_ to stop her window-gazing. Honestly, who does that?!

It doesn’t take long before she runs in to check out the new desk, and of course it’s the coolest thing that has ever happened to anyone ever. She claps and hoots and hollers, and says “BLEEEEEE!”. She looked it up and down and smiled so big I thought she was going to sprain a pixel. She pulls out the chair and gets right to chatting online. I didn’t have to tell her to.

Her social bar is slowly rising. She’s made a friend called Erin. She seems nice. A notificaton pops up that says “Amy learned that Erin is single”. Interesting. Just how nice _is_ Erin? Perhaps she could be more than a friend. Only time will tell. But that’s getting ahead of things. For now, Amy’s satisfied with some basic human interaction. This is the downside to not having a job, the isolation. Got to get onto that job hunt tomorrow. Money is only going to get tighter.

At 10:30pm she turns the computer off. Her social bar is stellar. She has +20 to mood for “new stuff” as she heads off to bed. I think she’s going to be okay, and hopefully between the TV and the computer she’ll have no use for wistfully longing out the window anymore. She dreams mainly of her computer, along with money, ideas, and clowns.

Ted #4

Friday, June 1st, 2012

Oh Ted. Oh Ted for goodness sake. You’ve gone and done it. What is so hard about taking yourself to the loo?! Why would you let it get to this point? A new low.

I guess at least your bladder is empty now. He has green stink lines coming off him, and is standing in a puddle of piss. What’s the saying? Today’s trauma is tomorrow’s comedy? If that’s the case, then Ted’s future writing career is going to be a hoot. If he ever gets there. It’s 12:42pm, he’s hungry. I feel like he’s helpless at this point.

An alert for an eating contest in town pops up. He’s starving and it would probably even be free to compete, but he’s standing in urine-soaked carpet right now. I don’t think he’s exactly in a position to go. The wet carpet is getting cold now. And squelchy. He still hasn’t taken himself to the shower, or attempted to clean up the mess.

A bit flabbergasted by this lack of autonomy, I paused the game to double check the settings were correct. Free will was set to maximum. Are you FREAKING kidding me?! What is wrong with this man? He’s supposed to be a Genius here. Did I make a mistake in instructing a few actions early on and now he’s just submitted completely? Hopefully he can begin performing basic tasks for himself again soon… But in the mean time, I try and get him to clean himself. He’s desolate. -50 to mood. He jumps in the shower at 4pm and doesn’t come out for a whole hour. I don’t blame him.

I make him clean up the mess, wash his hands, then grab some food. If I have any hope of getting him functioning properly I’ll need all his basic needs met. At 5:45 he makes an autumn salad.

While he’s eating and cleaning up his dishes, I try and cheer him up by buying him a computer. His social bar could use some online chatting. I sold the ugly concrete things in his dining area, and the two lamps from the lounge. Even buying the cheapest chair, desk, and computer available, Ted’s left with §73 in the bank. Bills are §83 per week, and dinner just cost §5.

That job search just got real. He’s going to have to get onto the sear…

Oh god.

As he’s cleaning up the dishes a gushing fountain of water spurts up into his face. He’s unable to stop it. The sink has broken, and is leaking water all over the floor. As if the floor today hadn’t seen enough.

I’m regretting the retail splurge right now as Ted phones a repairman to fix the sink. There was no self-repair option, he doesn’t have the logic skill points to attempt it. The repair technician came an hour later and charged §50. Shit. The bank account stands at §18.

Ted is really freaking out about this and I don’t know if it’s because of the bank balance or because he’s just really not in a good way today. He stared at the puddle on the floor and giggled, thinking it looked like a pond, before breaking down into tears over it, thinking of things like marriage. His sink broke, and he’s crying that he’ll never get married… Or that he’s scared of it… I honestly can’t pick it. Either way the repairman just tried to ignore it. If Ted hadn’t lost it while the repairman was here I would have suggested he strike up a conversation, possibly even making a friend. But it was just awkward as all hell.

As he mops up the puddle that is partly the sink’s fault and partly moisture that leaked from his eyeballs, I can’t help but feel sorry for the guy. What a day. He deserves a bit of a pick-me-up. With his Social bar being the only one that needed a bit of attention, I instructed him to go chat online with someone. He smiles very softly. There was relief in his eyes, mixed with a bit of excitement.

I spent the next 3 Sim-hours smiling as he made a friend, and his Social bar slowly started creeping up. Fresh start tomorrow.

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