My week - The Lyorn's Den
Sun Oct. 10th, 2010
12:42 am - My week
It could have been worse, I guess.
Monday, N___ was in town and I GM'd a special for the standard fantasy gaming group. My specials have a tendency to the domestic (see the agro-zombies), I discovered. But what you can do in one evening is one house, so stuff tends to be focused on what happens it.
This time, the mage woke first, in a pale-blue nightmare of a children's room overdone to the point of absurdity, in a night-shirt with a duck stitched on it, under a teddy bear blanket, and with no idea how he got there, or where his gear was. The hobbit found himself in a crocheted night cap, and the less is said about the girls' room, the better. The house was full of signs that they had been there before and left it before through a tunnel in the cellar. There also was a tame brown bear, bespelled milk and cookies, an animated three-metre tall suit of armour guarding the front door, and a chubby blue nanny who could pin small geasa on a character. ("Now drink your milk and go to bed!")
They found their gear in the closet under the stairs, and about twelve more sets of adventurer's gears, some quite ancient. The mage, always interested in all kind of books, found a herbarium where a plant that could cure amnesia was mentioned. Finally, they escaped -- again -- through the tunnel, and because the hour was getting late, they found that they had already destroyed all the undead in the dungeon on their previous passes, but overlooked the vial of anti-amnesia potion. This time they drank it and remembered that at the end of the tunnel, just before you got outside, there was a mirror which caused forgetfulness. The whole set-up had been used by a necromancer, hundreds of years before a nearly-forgotten goddess who was sometimes still invoked as the protector of lost children, created her house on the top of that hill.
The walked out of the cavern, right into an Ent who was prepared to bring the poor lost little ones back, but was quite happy to find that this time they knew who they were and what they were doing here. He gave them the background info and gave them tar paint to rend the mirror harmless.
The mood of the story worked quite well, halfway between horror and absurdity, with some sweet moments (everyone loved the tame brown bear), lots of role playing opportunities, and no combat at all.
Tuesday was ...interesting.
First I had the yearly talk with my boss, who offered me to try to get me a 40-hour contract (from currently 35). Those are rare and much sought-after, and trying does not necessarily produce them. I was all, OMG NOOOOO! at the mere suggestion of working even more, but the thought is itching now... I already do about 3 hours overtime every week, I could use the money, and if I ever want a promotion, maybe I should show more enthusiasm? I still don't know.
Late afternoon I had an appointment with the trainer in the gym. My intention was to get away from those stupid machines which bore me and where I do not see progress until I lose patience and just add 3 or 5 kilos all around. My back exercises on the cable machine are more satisfying than that fully electric stuff. (I like mechanics.)
It was a 33% success, all in all. First, it meant of course going to the mixed gym, which I wasn't too keen on (90% men in my workplace), but I don't know of any women's gym with free weights in town, so, blargh. And even though I was (for me) really insistent, the new training plan is again mostly machines, but at least mechanical ones, which are marginally more fun. And some dumbbells, which showed me very quickly that my left side was only too happy to let the right side do all the work. Gnarf. Well. It's a start. I hope.
Also, my left thigh was hurting, and it did not seem like leftover soreness from Capoeira class the Thursday before. Best case, it was a sprained muscle, worst case... nah, better not think about it.
Later in the evening, we met at my place again to play Blue Planet, and I got sick. Fine one moment, talking to Ralph on the Big White Phone half an hour later. I had worse, but I am worried these days because with all the lost weight I do not feel as resilient as I used to. In the end, when I had kicked out everyone else, I___ drove me to the emergency room, where I had my blood electrolytes and blood pressure checked, got meds, and was declared safe to go home.
Wednesday I called in sick to work, which was a very bad thing as my proxy was also sick at home, all kinds of stuff had gone wrong overnight and no one with the expertise to fix it was around. Apart from some phone calls and some writing, I slept most of the day. And most of the following night. And still overslept Thursday morning.
Thursday, all the crap at work had to be cleaned up, everything that could go wrong did go wrong, and that I was only five minutes late to Capoeira class I owe to my co-worker, who is a saint and fixed my bugs before he fixed his own. And to the fact that I can bicycle very, very fast.
The leg was still sore, and I could not make close-to-the-ground moves because it hurt too much. Which got me into a nice panic: This thing started to feel like nerve pain coming down from my spine, and Do Not Want. At home, I took a bunch of ibuprofen, which helped with the pain but not with the anxiety.
Friday was a quiet day at work and I got some stuff done. In the evening I had booked a VHS class (kind of like community college, only not really), "
War-paint Make-up for beginners". More out of curiosity than out of any urgent need to paint my face in accordance with current feminine styles, but you never know what might be needed, and my make-up skills are more suited to LARPs than to mundania.
The class was fun, even if there wasn't as much about colour as I had hoped, and the teacher wanted to sell us very expensive paint. I made all my saving throws. Back home, I stared in the mirror, thought, "gods less fortunate, I look years older" and set out to get rid of it all. That led to racoon eyes, which, I felt, looked kind of cool and fun. I'm still a little racoon-y on the right side. I do not know how people do get rid of water-resistant mascara.
And so Saturday came. I did not sleep in, because I was still nearly a day behind at work. I got up at ten, went into town to do the shopping (all kinds of weird stuff), tried to get breakfast but had to settle for pasta, and was at work at 2 pm. I did the absolute minimum necessary to have a shadow of a hope to keep my deadlines next week and was done at half past five. Doing the same stuff on a normal work day would have taken eight hours because of constant interrupts.
My leg was doing better. I went to the gym again and started on my new program. Had body fat measured by a very technical-appearing device which I didn't fully trust, and came out higher than I had thought and disappointingly low in muscle mass. (Forgot to pay for it, too. Have to go there tomorrow to pay.) Note to self, eat more meat. The weights for the legs were mostly set too low, the ones for the arms were just fine. All in all, it was OK.
Then I bought groceries and made some plans about having steak, but after checking the fridge I decided on bread and cheese again. (It's great bread and great cheese.) Protein can wait for tomorrow.
I played with the cats, did the washing, found that it was too late to call any of the people I had planned to call, and tomorrow I'm busy the whole day again.
But next week I should have Monday and Wednesday evening off! (Not Friday, though.)
If anyone is wondering why they don't hear from me, that's why.