Pink Floyd is in the background. Lights are turned down, music is low, computers are on. I’m situated in my bat cave, my fortress of solitude, my man cave. its 12 fucking 30 and i still have to wait another two hours before it happens. All the hype, all the waiting, all the late nights, the sleepless days, the mornings waking up in my shower asking my self how the hell i got there. all of it for this. Its raid night, and its time to kill some bitches. Thats right people. I’m a raider. Well actually to be more accurate I play Wow.  Tonight, like any of our scheduled Tuesday, Thursday and Monday nights, is the night where we brave men gather our strength to face the most death defyingly horrible creatures to ever be…so we get online and do 10 man progression raids. What that means is that my guild gets together and enters a raid dungeon and attempts to beat it. after that we keep doing it until we put the raid on farm, and we move on to more challenging tasks. Tonight we face our most horrible challenge yet. 2 hours left. This, my friends, is the shittiest part of living abroad. Time differences. If we end up wiping tonight i swear I’m going to be pissed.