Tiny Money

Progress on Hypnophobia has been pretty steady. We haven't run into any horrid problems yet with compiling so that's good. I can still remember the sting of various bizarre errors I got when Insomnia was baking, the teeth grinding, the hair pulling, the crying, good God the crying.

I've taken preemptive measures against such heart ache this time around, I've constructed a map specifically for defense against the frustration that comes with being, well, a genius.



This is Lounge Island, a quite home away from home for those times when you want to get away from it all, especially dubious amounts of entdata in compile logs. Lounging on these private beaches is also highly recommended for those who, against their better judgment, are out looking for jobs when they should be mapping.

See, a certain mustachioed young man here has applied to work at the local book stores and gardening supply stores, not because he needs the money but because he feels obligated as a newly christened adult to join the Kafkaesque world of day labor. It won't be a problem for him though, with the entire socio-economic system that forms the foundation of his being about to crumble there's barely any point in looking for civilized employment before we're all reduced to fighting each other over water in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

Now, that's not to say this young man isn't looking forward to a life of stacking boxes and wearing ties. He just isn't getting his hopes up that someone would want to give him money for the aforementioned box-stacking and tie-wearing, especially not when it's been clearly established that the entire Western world is falling into chaos around him.

We could assume that this young man, rather than make a futile attempt at joining a society he clearly doesn't understand, would very much like to spend the rest of his life (no matter how short it might be) making maps in various states of illogic.

No doubt the cognitive dissonance this conflict creates in our mustachioed hero's mind can be too much to bare. At this point, he has two options: have a nervous breakdown or go for a relaxing swim on a tiny island he built for just such a purpose.

And thus, Lounge Island was born.

...

I will occasionally be uploading screenshots of my various doings on my Steam profile page. It would be the bee's knees if you check there for time to time. It should be worth a giggle, maybe even a snicker.