I feared I wouldn’t be able to continue with Fallout 76, given how much it was boring – such an apt word – away at my will to carry on. Last time around it felt like my interest had waned significantly, and my carrying on would only be in a perfunctory, performative fashion for the sake of this diary.
Well, reader, turns out I was right. I tried, I really did, but there is nothing about Fallout 76 that makes me want to go back to it. Even friends who own the game can find zero motivation to come together and roam the Appalachia region together, deciding instead to do something more worthwhile with their time, like sitting in total silence with the lights off.
As such, I just didn’t play Fallout 76 this week. At all. Didn’t even turn on my Xbox One, come to think of it. Instead I did other things; played other games. Spent time doing something that didn’t feel utterly like a waste of everything.
One particular day while waiting to see if a couple of chums actually would play Fallout 76 with me, I made my way to the kitchen and mustered up a group of other friends, most of who you can see right here:
In this pre-nuclear non-apocalypse, I decided it would be best to pass the time by popping three quarters of a teaspoon of the yeast along with a teaspoon each of the sugar and salt in a tin together. You know, just to pass some time.
That all in there – and my desire to ever touch Fallout 76 again clearly not returning – I bundled on top of it some 400 grams of strong white flour, entirely covering those first few kitchen-buddies from the previous image and serving as a further distraction to my ongoing need to stay well away from the upstairs room where my Xbox One lives.
But it wouldn’t be good enough to just stop there. Unlike Fallout 76, I wasn’t about to give up on this particular pet project, so I whacked on top of it some 15 or so grams of (dairy-free) spread and roughly 280 millilitres of room temperature water; neither of which was heavily irradiated, though there is of course a base level of radiation coming from everything in existence, bar possibly some stable nuclei. The more you know.
The thing is, at this point you might think I’d be rushing to clear off the kitchen side and get-a-kneadin’, and you wouldn’t be far wrong. The thing is, I live in a future Fallout 76 didn’t predict, and I have a breadmaker. A pretty good one, actually. So all I did was put it on program one, set it to medium crust darkness, then go and do something else with my time for four hours and five minutes.
What did I do? I don’t really remember, thus making it infinitely more interesting than bothering to go near Fallout 76 ever again. Plus, at the end of this unmemorable stint of who-knows-what – staring at walls, probably – I didn’t end up with an empty feeling of regret, as Bethesda’s latest instils in me. No, dear reader, I ended up with bread.
Coming soon – Toast__