I haven't left my house in about 72 hours. I've always been a homebody, but until the option to leave my house was taken from me I don't think I realized how much I relished simple excursions that broke up my day. Even though a lot of the things I left the house for were things I can still do at home, like seeing a movie or working out or getting something to eat, it doesn't feel like as much of an activity when I'm doing those things in the same few rooms I do everything else. And I think that's the oddest part, the way everything sort of feels like one activity when you're inside all day. The hours all melt together and I spend all day thinking I'm busy at something but also have no idea where any of my days have gone, as I flitter back and forth from one activity to another at a whim.
Weirdly enough, that lack of structure to my day is what makes Animal Crossing: New Horizons such a good quarantine game. Obviously any game you can dump a lot of hours into is good for a situation like this, but there are tons of games that can support triple digit playtimes. What makes Animal Crossing so perfectly timed is its structure and the way the in-game clock lines up with the real world. When I get up in the morning, I know something will be different in my town, like my house will be expanded, or a new resident will have moved in, or that goddamn museum will be open so I can unload those forty bugs and fish I caught three days ago. I know there will be basic maintenance, like the five new 2x Nook Miles objectives to do, cleaning up the fossils that have somehow risen to surface-level overnight, or selling every piece of natural fruit on my island to Tom Nook before anyone gets a chance to eat. I know if I want to talk to every resident in my town, some will be up before me, some after, and I might need to come back to the game at a certain time to catch them. It can sometimes feel like a chore or an obligation, but it's always a fun one, and anything that can break up the monotony right now should be cherished.
It also gives me a fun, novel way to interact with my friends. At a time where the only way I can hang out with them is to either chat or play video games together (not that that's extraordinarily different from what we normally do, but the lack of options and not having them in the same room is certainly a blow), Animal Crossing allows for some direct interaction. Even if it's as simple as visiting their island to write something stupid on their bulletin board or get into some furniture-rearranging hijinx, it lets me feel like I'm tangibly affecting their world in a way I otherwise can't right now.
Of course, Animal Crossing isn't the only, or the main, thing I'm building my schedule around right now. I still work weekends, I'm keeping busy with home improvement projects and work for this site. But all those things, regardless of how much I enjoy them, still have some pressure to them. Even a job you like will be stressful, the painting I'm doing around my house requires me to be precise and quickly clean up mistakes, and stuff for the site means hitting deadlines and trying to pull my weight or not let other people down. But my deserted island emulates a low-stakes version of the real world, where I can enjoy the fulfillment of a daily routine, the sense of progression over a long period of time, and a vibrant, changing world because my friends are out there living their own lives, too. I don't think I've ever seen a game so perfectly made for its time.
Weirdly enough, that lack of structure to my day is what makes Animal Crossing: New Horizons such a good quarantine game. Obviously any game you can dump a lot of hours into is good for a situation like this, but there are tons of games that can support triple digit playtimes. What makes Animal Crossing so perfectly timed is its structure and the way the in-game clock lines up with the real world. When I get up in the morning, I know something will be different in my town, like my house will be expanded, or a new resident will have moved in, or that goddamn museum will be open so I can unload those forty bugs and fish I caught three days ago. I know there will be basic maintenance, like the five new 2x Nook Miles objectives to do, cleaning up the fossils that have somehow risen to surface-level overnight, or selling every piece of natural fruit on my island to Tom Nook before anyone gets a chance to eat. I know if I want to talk to every resident in my town, some will be up before me, some after, and I might need to come back to the game at a certain time to catch them. It can sometimes feel like a chore or an obligation, but it's always a fun one, and anything that can break up the monotony right now should be cherished.
It also gives me a fun, novel way to interact with my friends. At a time where the only way I can hang out with them is to either chat or play video games together (not that that's extraordinarily different from what we normally do, but the lack of options and not having them in the same room is certainly a blow), Animal Crossing allows for some direct interaction. Even if it's as simple as visiting their island to write something stupid on their bulletin board or get into some furniture-rearranging hijinx, it lets me feel like I'm tangibly affecting their world in a way I otherwise can't right now.
Of course, Animal Crossing isn't the only, or the main, thing I'm building my schedule around right now. I still work weekends, I'm keeping busy with home improvement projects and work for this site. But all those things, regardless of how much I enjoy them, still have some pressure to them. Even a job you like will be stressful, the painting I'm doing around my house requires me to be precise and quickly clean up mistakes, and stuff for the site means hitting deadlines and trying to pull my weight or not let other people down. But my deserted island emulates a low-stakes version of the real world, where I can enjoy the fulfillment of a daily routine, the sense of progression over a long period of time, and a vibrant, changing world because my friends are out there living their own lives, too. I don't think I've ever seen a game so perfectly made for its time.
