Like the rest of the shut-in world, I;ve been gambling Animal Crossing to cope. I revel in checking in every day to perform easy chores, like chopping up bushes for wood, watering plants, and picking fruit. It;s repetitive and boring, but subjecting myself to that senseless rhythm is high-quality meditative. My thoughts goes blank and my stress dissipates for a fleeting, lovely moment. And 10 mins later, I;m stocked up on Animal Crossing Items elements or items that cross in the direction of building out my little zen garden.
But at the end of every day, I;m nevertheless indebted to a predatory raccoon. My efficacy is limited to what kinda cash Tom Nook is inclined to lend me.
my will and purpose choked and dwindled by way of the appeal of lolga interest unfastened loans—a twisted, compromised fantasy.