I have been hooked on Luxor ever since my trip to Montana. My family invited me and the kids in for what seemed like an innocent vacation and then gave me my first hit. They said it would “help me relax”. At first, that’s exactly what it did.
I could feel the tension draining from my body as I began to participate with the others. This was fun. No harm could come from breaking a few bubbles. It was a social thing. It wasn’t long before I found myself dreaming about it, waking up with the cravings. Forget Fruity Cheerios. I needed more Luxor.
No, it’s not some illicit “herb” I’m growing out in my wild yard. That’s called Rosemary, with a hint of dandelion. But it’s every bit as addictive. Spider solitaire was a passing interest compared with this siren of electronic time suckage. I want to stop. I really do, but I’m not sure I’m strong enough.
Today I used the Luxor as a reward to accomplish a ton of stuff around the house. Fold a washcloth. Pass a level. Clean the dishes and get lunch. Play just a bit longer. Drink a few sips of water. Head to the computer.
By the time Dan got home, the house was fairly clean, but I was ALL hopped up on the game, trying weakly to make conversation while my sore mouse-hand moved quickly back and forth, my lips twitching in time with the sound effects.
When I finally lost, I let out a wail. As Dan comforted me, I swore I would not play again for at least a week. Within 30 seconds, I was back, using a new player identity and shooting again and again. Dan walked into the room without saying a word. “Nothing,” I giggled nervously.
Then I stopped. The game is now off. I plan to stay sober at least until the weekend.