I need to kill something....

Sorry FBI, CIA, NSA and all you other skulkers of the inter-tubes trolling for the next nut job with a fertilizer fetish....

No, I'm not talking about doing anyone in, well at least not anyone who isn't made of pixels.

You see, the new job's been a bit rough and my attitude toward it is getting steadily worse.  Don't get me wrong, My boss isn't a jerk, I get along with just about everybody but in the end it's a hopeless cause. 

It's a lot like playing a FPS that only the most hardened 13 year old gamer could master.  So much time, so much effort and in the end nothing more than an empty triumph at best.  More likely a fruitless waste of time and deep resentment over never seeing the endgame cutscene. 

I can take only so much lipstick on any given member of the porcine.  The longer I'm there the more garbage I uncover and to be honest I'm sick of it.  It's not a challenge it's an exercise in futility.  The road to hell is in no danger of going unattended as good intentions seem to fill the room like so much confetti at a Time's Square new year's celebration. 

Great ideas abound but the underlying issues remain entrenched and jealously guarded.  In this environment all I can do is wait to get fired and hope to find a better means to continue having a roof over my ample noggin.

So how does this relate to killing stuff?

Well, My refuge, however trite it may be, is to sit down and while away a few hours with Borderlands. I can immerse myself in the role of the overgrown steroid mutated badass I could never be in real life without gaining a criminal record and tiny private parts.  I make no representation as to the size of anyone's private parts BTW, I'm just being responsible about the possible effects of steroid abuse...Don't do 'em kiddies!

Anyway, there are times you just need a win over the bad guys to at least pretend that you can triumph over impossible odds. 

Do I sometimes see difficult encounters at work in the context of a game?  Yes I certainly do, in fact it makes it tolerable. 

I don't have any profound phrases about it.  It's just a good example of how gaming helps me tolerate what would otherwise be intolerable.  Some people like to run around the streets in flourescent spandex running pants.  Me, I just like to kill pixels and pretend they're just another one of the silicon and plastic annoyances I have to deal with in the "Real World".