Sunday, December 7th, 2003

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Today has been a weird day. I woke up with all the symptoms of a hangover without having had the pleasure of drunkenness the night before. I considered the work I had to do today (correctin student essays) and decided that I could ease myself into it by playing Neverwinter Nights for a while (by the way, Dave, I still haven't got the Linux client to work, and there's no way I'll connect to the Internet through Windows, so you won't be seeing me online for a while). This got me sat at my computer, so after my character got killed, I rebooted into Linux and started downloading essays (I have a system where students upload essays to the course website, which I have realised is more trouble than it's worth).

Then the phone rang. My father-in-law was suggesting a date to go and put winter tires on our car (well technically it's my car, but I don't drive it much because I hate cars, so it's a general family car). Hmm, let's see, I have a splitting headache and my upper-body muscles feel like they've been massaged by a pair of orcs who've taken half of a course in Korean acupressure. What do I want to do? I know, I'll go to an industrial wasteland and stand around in the cold, pretending to understand what a bunch of half-orcs say about rod-balance. Mmmm, that sounds good - wouldn't miss a chance for male bonding!

An apranax later, I complete my automobilic mission, and my headache has spread to my face. My sinuses ache - ye gods, even my nose aches - and my right eye is about to give up on me. Not to worry, the mission is acomplished, and I can return to the tavern, sell my magical objects and make merry with serving wenches ... not. I have to go to my in-laws to pick up my wife. I am plunged from the male world of Pirelli versus Uniroyalto the female world of who gets to win Turkey's young pop star competition. I take a couple of aspirin. The pain in the left side of my face recedes and the pain in the right side intensifies. I remember how back in the 70s and 80s we were talking about androgyny and think that androgyny is like trying to cure AIDS and cancer by producing a carcinogenic strain of HIV.

Now I am trapped in a dungeon, I need to escape. They want me to spend the night, but I've read my Greek mythology, and know about Persephone and Hades. I insist that I am taken home. I insist for three hours, because no one will believe that I am not rejecting their hospitality but am merely in pain and am aware that my hit points are almost at zero.

Eventually I am returned to my castle home, and I can quaff ale. The pain disappears, and my hit points return to normal. Tomorrow I will have another headache, but at least it will be a normal alcohol-induced headache.

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Robin Turner

June 2014

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