I had just finished priming two troops of clawshot rat sniper minis when I noticed that something was glowing in my game room. It was my computer monitor. This was strange, because nobody else was home.
I set the cardboard flat containing the minis down in front of the box fan, made sure there was no paint on my hands, and went to investigate. As I approached the glowing computer desk, there was a sudden scrambling and scuttling from somewhere in the shadow of the otherwise dark room. I stopped for a moment, and listened. There was a slight chittering, and then some harsh whispered exclamations from my bookshelf. I took a step forward, and something crunched beneath my foot.
Sunflower seed shells. Again. I was not surprised to find multiple tabs open on my computer browser.
Let's see what those little rats were up to:
Artesan Cheese and Greek yogurt on Instacart -- X
30lbs of peanuts in the shell at Fleet Farm. -- X
An R34 gallery of NSFW fan art from Capitol Critters and the Secret of Nimh... See, this is why I never leave the printer hooked up. -- X
And... Adepticon 2023 Kings of War tournament?
Hmmmm...
It was recently brought to my attention that Adepticon added some entry slots to the Kings of War tournament. When I first found out, there was an impulsive temptation to quickly snag a ticket while I still could, before they sold out, again. Younger me might have done it, but over the years, I've learned a few things the hard way. The wiser, older me knows better.
So why would I decline the opportunity to play at an event I really WANT to attend? It's because I know my limits, and I understand the bitterness of regret. Adepticon is in March. At the time of this writing, it is less than four weeks away. In order to get my army painted and ready in time, I would have to really power through and paint hard. It would be possible, sure, but it would be rushed.
So far, I have been very pleased with everything I have painted. If I rush to make a deadline, I risk ending up with work that I am unhappy with.
The other problem with the idea is that even if I did make that deadline and showed up at a major midwestern tournament with the paint still drying on my minis, I have literally never played a game of Kings of War. I've read the rules. I've watched videos of gameplay. But I have never actually played a real game, yet. A tournament is no place for that. It isn't fair to the other players. People travel to these events to play good games against good opponents with good armies. They don't travel to tournaments to teach a new guy how to play.
Most importantly, I don't want to rush. This project is fun, and it is relaxing. Just the idea of setting a hard deadline introduces stress into my hobby, and that's the last thing I want. Hobbies aren't supposed to be stressful. They are supposed to be stress relievers.
So no, I won't be playing in the tournament at Adepticon this year. It's just too soon. I talked to my friend, Ellie, about it. She's been building an Abyssal Dwarf army parallel to me building my Ratkin army, and she agreed with my decision for the same reasons. We both want to go, but neither of us is ready. Instead, we have come up with a clever scheme. The plan is to keep painting through spring, get our armies together, and start playing small battles in the basement, or at the game store. That way we can learn the rules and get comfortable with the game over the summer. We've decided that a much more reasonable and perfectly achievable goal is to aim for an Adepticon 2024 road trip. That gives us over a year to complete our armies and get the hang of the game. It makes Adepticon something to look forward to, rather than something dreadful and looming.
Setting goals for yourself is important, but it is equally important that you make those goals attainable. Unrealistic goals will lead to stress, disappointment, and discouragement.
Nobody wants to be the girl who only has three hours to finish this costume that she entered in the anime convention cosplay contest, even though it wasn't done yet, and now she's missing the whole convention, locked in her hotel room, hunched over a sewing machine, crying, and her glue gun got left plugged in, and it's literally burning a hole in one of her props, but she hasn't noticed yet.
Don't put yourself in that situation. You want to do these things, and that is good, and that is healthy. What is not healthy, is to take the things that give you joy, and turn them into stressors. If you aren't careful, you can burn out, and ruin your hobbies for yourself. The things you love can easily be ruined if they stop being fun, and start being work.
And don't get me started on the Cinderella Disney rats that are supposed to help that girl with her costume. The mere notion is complete fantasy. Oh, your little vermins are eager to help with your project, yes, yes. But they always have their own selfish motivations. They aren't helping you with your project. They are helping themselves to your project and your materials like Soviet era laborers left unsupervised in a supply room, and next thing you know they are kludging together horrific steampunk engines of destruction that defy scientific laws and possibly cause hair loss.
And sometimes, just sometimes, they might rewire the conduit in your house to steal electricity for their secret laboratory, and if that happens, well, good luck making any sense of your breaker box the next time you need to replace a light fixture.
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