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I think it was sunny out. Maybe it wasn’t. I was in the midst of playing Breath of Fire: Dragon Quarter and my brow began to sweat. I was no longer concentrating on oafishly navigating my avatar through a post-apocalyptic rendition of an ice cavern. My mind was focused on Steam and its sales.

The Deft Hands Of Steam Making A Run With My Money

Earlier in the week I was sorting through my emails when I came across a notification from Steam that Thief was on sale for $10. I thought nothing of it. As I recently mentioned, Itake no pride in comparing how long my backlog is to others. I am no magpie, intent on hording speckled and asymmetrically shaped shinny objects to increase my ranks within society. And yet, moments after deleting the email, I began to think irrationally about purchasing Thief, a game which I’d heard was decent at best.

So be it, I began to rationalize to myself. I’ll simply speak to others about whether the game is worth paying $10 for. Most people I asked told me the game was enjoyable but not great; fun but inconsequential.

My answer was set: I was not to buy the game if I would likely forget I played it moments after finishing it.

I Am A Magpie

Five minutes later, I bought Thief. Not a big deal I told myself. It cost me $10, and it was decent, even inconsequential! I’ll simply set some time aside to play it at some point in the near future.

I Am A Zealot

Thief was a gateway into Steam. Last week I was a magpie: I was attracted to Steam sales and items on my wishlist that went on sale. I am now a zealot. My mind and body are honed, and I am constently thinking of the daily and / or weekly sales offered by Steam.

Perhaps I am simply being swept up by the novelty of being able to access games immediately through the digital distributions magic of Steam. Maybe in a week I’ll have calmed down, and can get back to playing games I actually want to play. Or maybe I’ll grow poor and weery, with eyes soar and fingers blistered from having spent so much money on so many games.