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There is a deep satisfaction that comes of finishing a climbing session with some new bruises and sore muscles. It's not so much about the satisfaction of finishing a tricky new route--that's something separate--but more akin to having made a scarf I'll never wear (Austin! Always hot!), or written a short story I can't sell. It says that I'm not just a lump: I'm a person who Does Things, useful or otherwise, and that I have in some small way performed as a human being for the day.
Anyway. It's been more than a week since I was at the rock gym, and I can tell. I climbed some V0s rather awkwardly--there's a particular corner one where I keep getting all my hands swapped, and only its Zero Nature means I can still climb it that way--and a few V1s clumsily, and then I fell off a lot of V1s and V2s over and over and over until it was time to leave the gym.
I've been reading the Aubrey/Maturin books again, this time on my phone, and the bus ride back from the gym gives plenty of time for that. It tends to infest my vocabulary for an hour or two afterwards, which is all the more awkward because I can't even pastiche that dialect deliberately, so it just sounds goofy if I write anything too soon after the reading. But in any case, I came home, cuddled poor bathroom-locked Aubrey (also known as Lumpy Cat or Leaky Cat, of late), took a quick shower, left the bathroom--
--and found myself staring directly at a cleaning lady, since apparently the newly set-up service comes on Tuesdays, not Thursdays as I'd thought.
Lo, that door was shut quickly.
One towel later, there was a great deal of apologizing on both sides, some discussion of what rooms to touch or not--Aubrey in the bathroom means no cleaning of the bathroom, alas--and then I went off to fail to buy things from Sears. (Very nice employees! But somehow it takes forever to try to do anything in that store.) And so on and so forth. A decent day. Next up is making something mushroom-based for dinner, and somehow the entire day is gone even though it doesn't feel like I've really done anything but gone to the gym...
And now to go frown at that gourd in the fridge, which is either a very large summer squash or a small melon. I think. I guess if I cut it open, I'll figure out which.
Anyway. It's been more than a week since I was at the rock gym, and I can tell. I climbed some V0s rather awkwardly--there's a particular corner one where I keep getting all my hands swapped, and only its Zero Nature means I can still climb it that way--and a few V1s clumsily, and then I fell off a lot of V1s and V2s over and over and over until it was time to leave the gym.
I've been reading the Aubrey/Maturin books again, this time on my phone, and the bus ride back from the gym gives plenty of time for that. It tends to infest my vocabulary for an hour or two afterwards, which is all the more awkward because I can't even pastiche that dialect deliberately, so it just sounds goofy if I write anything too soon after the reading. But in any case, I came home, cuddled poor bathroom-locked Aubrey (also known as Lumpy Cat or Leaky Cat, of late), took a quick shower, left the bathroom--
--and found myself staring directly at a cleaning lady, since apparently the newly set-up service comes on Tuesdays, not Thursdays as I'd thought.
Lo, that door was shut quickly.
One towel later, there was a great deal of apologizing on both sides, some discussion of what rooms to touch or not--Aubrey in the bathroom means no cleaning of the bathroom, alas--and then I went off to fail to buy things from Sears. (Very nice employees! But somehow it takes forever to try to do anything in that store.) And so on and so forth. A decent day. Next up is making something mushroom-based for dinner, and somehow the entire day is gone even though it doesn't feel like I've really done anything but gone to the gym...
And now to go frown at that gourd in the fridge, which is either a very large summer squash or a small melon. I think. I guess if I cut it open, I'll figure out which.