I got "the talk" at work, and they were going to put me on a "Performance Improvement Plan". That's corpo-speak for: "We're going to let you go, but we have to make it look like we tried to help you improve so that you don't sue us for any wrongdoing later. Thanks."

So, I quit. It was quite underwhelming. I just stopped working, and they stopped paying me. I wish I could say there was a blaze of glory and destruction of property involved. Nope. I was working from home at the time, and then the next day rolled around, and I didn't log into Slack anymore. That was it.

For weeks after that, I merely lived on instinct. When I was sleepy, I slept. When I was hungry, I ate. But one can only live that way for so long until the realities and implications of a dwindling bank balance force one's hand to spur into action.

Still, I had some time. And I knew that I didn't want to work. So what did I do?

I bought the complete "Slam Dunk" manga series.

What did I do after that? I thought about making a video game. Call it a flight of fancy. I'd even dabbled before in the past, but nothing ever came to fruition and coalesced into an actual game. Surely, this time will be different, right?

Right?!

The armchair internet game developers provided this nugget of wisdom: start with something simple, and work your way up. But, I really shouldn't get too wrapped up in what other people say. Because, fundamentally, the thing that bothers me most about my life is: I've done nothing for myself for years.

I've made nothing. I've consumed a ton of stuff (junk food, video games, media, etc.). I can't speak too much of other people, but I've gone through life holding on to something inside me, something amorphous that I want to put in discrete form. After the stupor of my post-employment decompression malaise, I started thinking, what would it take to actually produce something. If not for other people, then at least for myself.

So, here I am. I'm going to try to make something. And it's going to be a video game.