The domain of Slugboy

Andy and I don't see as much of Josh as we used to.

He's undertaken a disappearing act. While we know he's in the apartment, he really isn't actually there with us anymore.

Even when we do see him, he seems to be a shadow of his old self. It's like we're looking at him through an unfocused lens. It's Josh, but it isn't the Josh we are used to seeing.

There are bags around his eyes, he's often yawning, he's paler and he seems perpetually tired. In the mornings, his wakeup times have been progressively pushed back.

Many people would be concerned by this change behaviour and appearance.

They would be questioning why this was happening and what help they should be arranging for the person.

Not Andy and I though.

We find this situation hilarious in fact!

We may seem callous, but we know better.

All of Josh's behavioural and physiological changes have been self inflicted. He has no one to blame but himself.

A few weeks ago, Josh decided that it would be a fantastic idea to a purchase brand new flat screen television for his room. It didn't matter that his room gets terrible television reception. There was only one main purpose for this purchase.

His PS3.

Night and day, Andy and I now find Josh glued to the television, black controller in hand, ear piece in place, hammering away at the latest Call of Duty game.

His lack of movement and slothful ways have led Andy and I to rename him "SLUGBOY".

His obsession with this game is starting to affect his perception of time as well. Last Saturday, he found himself playing from 10:00 am till 1:00pm, taking a short break for lunch and then playing from about 2:00pm through till 7:00pm. Count those hours. Those are EIGHT hours. What are they again? EIGHT HOURS!

Josh however, was certain that he had only been playing for "three or four hours".

No Josh, EIGHT HOURS.

It appears that even time slows down in the domain of the Slugboy.