Before getting myself onto the mat: all is woe, everything is too much and takes too long, I Cannot Face Cooking, we shall be forced to Resort to Sad Pasta
Ten minutes after getting myself onto the mat and starting moving: ... actually, you know what, stir-frying the purple sprouting broccoli with Stuff sounds both achievable and Vastly More Appealing, scratch the Sad Supermarket plan
It was just warm-up! I hadn't even got the endorphins going yet!
I think we have to just establish - verbally, conceptually - that we have entered into a kind of vortex where traditional assumptions about the industry have been annihilated. Megafauna are collapsing under their own weight; they're loaning their treasured IP to tiny, scampering creatures so that something useful might be done with it at all. They're slicing and sectioning themselves into charcuterie boards, or tarting themselves up for handsome saviors. The return of the demo, an attempt to thumb the scale in a world where making a good game appears to be a solved problem but people knowing you exist is increasingly impossible, means I've bought more games in the last two weeks than I have in the last two years. Escapees from "triple a" have gnawed at its root, drawing from it a dark strength. Or, you know, gotten utterly annihilated. Like I said: Vortex.