Heh.
So, end result: She's more addicted to Minecraft than me, but I take it way more seriously than her. This produces a set of issues I hadn't anticipated.
We played a bit over the week. Saturday I wanted to... go outside, and explore the *real* world for a bit. And she was like "but... but... Minecraft!"
And then we played for 8 hours.
It ended with us finding a dungeon, getting our asses kicked, but then mining a bunch of iron, smithing ourselves a full suit of armor and weapons, making down into the depths of the dungeon, slaughtering everyone who stood before us....
....and then, right before we were going to haul everything upstairs, and then log off and go to bed, I lagged, and fell in the lava, and died.
And then I wanted to move my respawn point closer to the action, so I grabbed a bed from the top of the dungeon, and brought it down with me. I took the rest of the iron we had hidden in a chest, made myself more armor.
Then *she* died, and I had accidentally stolen her bed, so she respawned a continent away.
Then I died again.
And then we had lost basically everything we had spent the past few hours working for. And I was really sad and stressed out. And she was like "dude, it's just a game, chill out!" and I'm like "but... but... so much iron! And horrible separation cliffhanger!"
We almost went to bed on time, like responsible adults. And then she's like "so.... we could play some more..."
And then we played for another 3 hours.
My god, what have I done?