For two running nights, I've dreamed of playing Fallout: New Vegas. Yay. If I was the sort to believe in personification, I'd be wrapping this bad boy in tin foil.
I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that I'm rereading the best novel about Vegas ever: Tim Powers' Last Call.
But there it sits, wrapped in plastic like Laura Palmer, untouched except when I put newspapers under it to confirm the date.