The Thief of Time.

I am a wood elf. I travel the world scavenging for things that might be useful or that I can sell. I have to kill various animals, people and undead creatures in my line of work and I'm especially skilful at killing dragons. It's not my day job though.

I have recently had a birthday and received many interesting and useful presents. One of which was a new game for my Xbox and I don't know whether to curse or cheer about it. The problem is that I get carried away playing it at the expense of more worthy pursuits, like painting the kitchen ceiling.

There are two camps of people, those who play computer games and those who don't understand the attraction. I have always had a vivid imagination with a particular slant towards fantasy and adventure and if these games had been around when I was young, I would have been one of those reclusive teenagers who seldom leave the bedroom.

I've played several games over the years and every time I finish one I promise to get myself a life. I have been known to switch it on early evening and still be beavering away killing zombies when the sun comes up. It's all so pointless.

Most women are in the 'don't get it' camp including my dearly beloved. She was seriously tickled when she discovered I was a wood elf, the ribbing has been merciless. Even I have to admit it's ridiculous. I don't find it relaxing because it's so intense and frustrating and I feel guilty about the wasted time. Then there's the lethal combination of game and alcohol. I wake up with a hangover and can't even remember what happened in my alternative world.

I shall try and resist the pull of the thing but it's hard, I think I'm addicted. Perhaps there's a self-help group I can join. I've tried to ration myself to an hour a day but there's always just another little bit you need to finish, then another, then another. Devious bastards those game designers.