We expect to rue the day at the following link.
This isn’t the sort of guilt you’d feel over any of your typical worldly transgressions, no. What we have (and have had for some time) is the perennial guilt that only a gamer, or maybe a bookworm, could feel. It isn’t a revelation, and we’re far from alone, but that doesn’t make us regret our unplayed games any less. It’s likely that the pain is especially sharp now because summer was the traditional season for eating through a backlog, and our minds still expect to weather the dry months of our youth. We’ve been cursed with precisely what we asked for, and we were unprepared to accept the blessing.