Death of a Hobby

I'm going to run a new campaign. This thought occurs to me one afternoon while I'm 300 posts deep into an argument about roleplaying games and for a second it feels like remembering something obvious. A campaign. Right. The thing this whole hobby is supposedly about. I know who I want to ask and roughly what I want to run. What about Mothership played like Traveller? Something long and sandboxy where the characters get older and where the world keeps moving on its own. I don't need to read a module first. I definitely don't need to buy another fucking book. There's an old star map I can steal, I can make the rest up. Maybe Thursday works. I should ask them now. The doorbell rings. It's the postman with a package and a bill for 11.26 euros in customs. Cash only. No, he doesn't have change. Fucking hell. I have absolutely no idea what I've ordered until I spot the publisher's name on the package. Oh. Right. This. Some Kickstarter shit from years ago. Backing it felt like something I…