Activity on Electron Dance is going to be erratic for a while, as the Little Harbour Mistress was born in the wee hours this morning following two days of deceptively painless labour.
I'm afraid to say Chris Park pipped me to the post on this one, but parenthood is a marathon, not a sprint. Which is a gentlemanly way of saying I'll get you next time, Park. (Except that Mrs. HM and I now have two children and the clan is complete, so there will be no next time. If this makes no sense, it's because I am still delirious from exhaustion.)
Regular visitors are going to be peeved: "What the 'ell? Where's me flipping gaming update?" But don't worry, I can wedge something in.
Early Friday morning I tried to get a little extra sleep in, preparing for imminent birth (hah, we had another good 40 hours to wait). I dreamt I was in Left 4 Dead, holed up in a high-tech security office on the fourth floor of a building, waiting for the zombie horde to attack. Friends and family were there. I remember thinking: this is no place to give birth to our daughter.
I have never played Left 4 Dead and never had much of a thing for it either. But somehow my brain felt the gamescape and language of a multiplayer zombie FPS experience was the best way to express something. I have absolutely no idea what that was, though.
Nonetheless, I woke up relieved that reality was more complicated than a zombie apocalypse.