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…
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.