Well, it’s happened. I’m plumb tuckered out with this whole farming business.
I’ll admit to getting all wrapped up during the holiday season when I received all of those fantastic gifts and I just couldn’t wait to open them. But then I got to open them…and frankly they didn’t really do much for me.
Then Valentine’s Day came along and yes, I was delighted by the ewe wearing the cute heart headband and was thrilled when I surpassed other friends’s Valentine accumulation…until I got to open the Valentine’s and I realized that THEY didn’t do it for me either.
St. Patrick’s Day was frought with gold, gold everywhere. Gold which didn’t do anything.
And now Easter Eggs are running rampant.
However, in the end, what do you really end up with that is all that special? A ewe wearing a Shamrock headband? An Easter egg decoration that will promptly be stored or sold?
Don’t even get me started on how much spam we send out to Non-Farmvilians begging for a brick or a nail or a fricken chicken. Do any of us really get all excited that someone found some white mystery eggs and are willing to share them with us?
I really used to enjoy my farm. I did. I swear. It was kitchsy and I found a certain amount of zen enjoyment just clicking on the plots and growing a crop and then starting the process all over again.
But I’m tired. And the game never ends. Only I do.
Only I do.
Farmville…you’ve been good to me, but it’s time to move on. I can’t handle the peer pressure. I don’t even care that I’ve let crops wilt. And I used to care. I did. I actually used to care about other people’s crops wilting and would call them to take care of it. But that’s not me anymore.
There. I said it.
I feel like I’ve been freed…and that everybody will be OK with my decision.
Everybody will be OK, everybody except Rayelle. She’ll be mad that I quit. And I pray to God that she never finds out!