From: Orys Baratheon
To: Drifter Board of Directors, No Sim Left Behind
Re: Drifter House 001, Progress Report 002I am pleased to report that everything is progressing very well. I have continued to collect and sell the natural resources of the neighborhood. In an effort to complete the Curator aspiration, I have been writing various pen pals and acquiring postcards from them. I have started a small garden, which thanks to some trial and error has resulted in the production of dragon fruit, grapes, and flowers.
Additionally, I have penned a few small tomes, and have been publishing these as well. Thus far I have written:
• A Fresh Start: How one humble sim decided to start a dynasty that would need to start over and over and over*
• Are Walls Necessary?: To sire an heir and subject it to living in the open like a hobo or to wait for walls like a normal person*
• Disappearing Computers & Other Glitches: Making a go of it on foraging and ignoring hardships
• Barefoot in Oasis Springs: A comedy about a struggling pair of new lovers
*Description written by Summer Holiday
Journal entry, Summer HolidayWhat have I gotten myself into? Orys gave me this stupid journal. He said it’s for posterity. I think it’s so that I can pour my frustrations onto the page and he can coax me into staying.
He does work super hard. I have to give him props for that. Every two seconds he’s ranging over the neighborhood digging up fossils and minerals and stuff. Plus, what I didn’t realize was that when we went to the Spice Festival before, he came back with all these plants and turned it into this garden. Plus, he figured out how to graft stuff together to make orchids and dragon fruit.
At least he doesn’t want me to help with that. He does, however, make me do all the cooking.
“It’s because I can’t control you.”
“Darn straight you can’t,” I told him.
“If you do the cooking, it’ll help you advance in your career. We need the money.”
“Orys, how about YOU get a job and then you can advance all YOU want?”
He told me he could make more money working from home.
It galls me that he’s right.
I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. He wants a baby right away. We’re living like vagabonds and he doesn’t seem to get that I want more than that for our kids.
“We only need the one. Besides we have walls.”
“Around the bathroom, yes? There’s no light and no paint or flooring. I want a legit house if we’re going to be raising a family.”
Nancy Landgraab, who is over here like every time I turn around must have gotten through to him, because when I got home from work, he’d built some walls around the bedroom.
I hate this. Every time I’m convinced that I’m gonna come home from work, pack up my stuff, and leave him like a sensible person, he gets around me somehow. Tonight, he surprised me with an engagement ring.
I looked down into his beautiful blue eyes and said yes.