In Which I Get A Little Heated By A Game

I cannot say I've always wondered what

'Twould be to live a grungy bach'lor's life --

I sort of knew from dating 'mongst them, but,

Comes Heated, where Tim Peers shows me its strife.

My goal's to get work on time without

A loss of temper, and I'd best look well.

My foes are my own stuff and home, about

Which things are strewn that I need. What the hell?

Some normal is abnormal, like the sink

In which I rinse my keys but cannot wash

My hands? More effort's gone, I have to think

To atmospherics -- and they're far from posh,

As I have said. I won't say this was fun,

(The grammar's poor), but it's not poorly done.