Apr. 20th, 2017

incandescens: (Kanzeon Bosatsu)
Still coughing a little, but my cold is a great deal better. Thank goodness. This may also be linked to the fact that work has managed to turn down the central heating, and we are no longer stifling, sweating, and about to fall asleep. We are a little cool (one of my coworkers who is very sensitive to the temperature is back to borrowing my at-work shawl) but I'd take that any day over being too hot.

Half the week gone, half of it to go. Most of my coworkers are currently trying to work through a set of tests on the upcoming ICD-11 classification (still in development, not yet implemented). The tests are being very frustrating, mostly due to a lack of coding guidance and an incomplete index. It's a safe bet that anyone at their desk who breaks out in moaning or cursing is doing so because of the line coding exercise. Alas, I'm doing it too. There is no mercy.


“So,” he finally said, “the newest witch who dares sneak into my domain and plot against me. Have you not learned, wench, that all those who came before you failed?”

“Oh, forgive me, most noble Graf!” Irene begged humbly. She knew that her German was a little too modern for this time and place, but sounding foreign could only increase his paranoia. “I was a fool to come here. I cast myself at your feet and beg for mercy!”

The Graf looked surprised. “You admit your guilt?”

Irene looked down at the floor, trying to squeeze out a tear or two. “You have bound me in iron, your grace, and there is a crucifix on the door. I am bound and my Satanic Master will no longer help me.”


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