As God as my witness, I can’t decide if I like that song or not.

It’s got a great beat and energy to it, but it’s also musically boring and repetitive. I mean, the bass sax riff is cool and all, but you need more than that. Either that, or you need rhymes that hit the stage so hard they break, and while I (again) love the energy of the song, the rhymes are good but not great.

So I still don’t know. It’s a kickass example of new-skool old-style rap, but…. meh.

I guess I will download it and listen to it till I make up my mind.

Today has been pleasant. Went to bed at three in the morning, got up around 8:30 or so. Play Skyrim a bunch.

So far, the game isn’t exactly grabbing me by the short and curlies and pulling me in, but I am enjoying it. It’s a lot like Bethesda’s other flagship series, Fallout. A lot of the controls are exactly like Fallout 4, a game I played a whole heck of a lot. But without the neato keen targeting system that lets me play the game in a sort-of-turn-based way.

Oh well. So far the fights have not been too fast for me, or at least, not unusually so. And I am a mage (sort of) so I can do fun things like animate corpses and shoot fire out of my hand.

Or paw. There is exactly one clearly Furry race in Skyrim and that is the Khajjit (pronounce ka-JEET, to my surprise), and surprise surprise, that’s the race I am playing. There were lots of other interesting choices, like orc, or troll, or wood elf, or whatever. But the conclusion was totally foregone. I was going to play the fuzzy race.

So my guy, Rhakshasa Raja, looks kind of like this :

Pretty studly, huh? And yet strokeably soft, too. Mrwar.  My guy has black fur and earrings and such, but you get the idea.

I will figure out how to take a screenshot of my pretty kitty some time soon.

The game first made a strong impression on me with the following scene :

I’m going through a barrow mound ^[1]fighting draugr with this fellow warrior (let’s call him Chuckie) when I reach a locked gate. I look around for a key or a lever to pull or whatever. I end up going into this tiny room and whaddaya know, there’s a lever there. So I pull it.

But instead of opening the gate I needed opened, a gate slams shit behind me, trapping me in the little room. Chuckie laughs at me and asks me what I have gotten myself into this time (dick) and goes to find a way to let me out.

But he doesn’t get far before he is surrounded by these douchebags calling themselves the Silver Circle surround him and talk about how much they are going to enjoy killing him.

And at this point I am freaking the fuck out because I think that the game is going to make me watch helplessly as Chuckie get murdered right before my eyes so that he becomes my vengeance motive for the rest of the game.

Imagine my shock, then, when Chuckie turns into a fucking werewolf and takes them all out in two freaking seconds.

That’s when I knew that this game had more to offer than a good take on the same old fantasy bullshit I have done a million times.

Other than my virtual adventures as a spell-slinging cat person, today has been quiet and, to be honest, not very productive.

I still feel really tired. It’s the same thing that happened to me in school as the term wore on. Every day, I was a little more tired and found it a little harder to get out of bed and go do stuff and the harder it was to concentrate and remember things.

It’s got to be a sleep thing. I am not getting enough of the good sleep, the kind that refreshes me and leaves me feeling renewed.

Instead, some internal battery wears down over time and I do not, as of this moment. have any idea how to recharge it.

It just happens now and then. I assume. Based on the fact that I haven’t keeled over yet.

And if it’s a sleep thing, it has to be my sleep apnea, because duh. It’s only a major medical problem that I have been completely ignoring. And I can’t even claim I am too busy to go to the doc about it any more.

But I know what he will tell me. He will tell me about scary surgical options and other painful possibilities in order to try to convince me to give CPAP another chance.

And who knows, maybe they have come up with some fancy new advances in CPAP masks or machine or whatever and it might somehow work for me the third time.

But I doubt it. Claustrophobia is very hard to fight. Which is ironic because I think it might be the sleep apnea’s oxygen issues that gave me the claustrophobia in the first place.

I mean, where else would I get this paranoia about getting enough air? I haven’t ever had a classic claustrophobic trigger incident where I got trapped somewhere. I have never been deprived of oxygen in a serious way that I can remember.

And yet, it doesn’t take much to set me off and then I start to freak out and think I am not getting enough air and everything goes to hell.

And by writing about it, I have heavily triggered myself. Lovely. Long, slow, deep breaths, each breath a little longer than the last.

Anyhoo, if I want to find a way to fully recharge instead of winding down over time, the answer will presumably lie in some form of treatment for my sleep apnea.

I have no idea what form that will take.

But I do know one thing.

It will not be CPAP.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.