Yes, I digress. It is yet another one of those super COOL 'Becca' things that I tend to do. FYI: Beware of me inside of a Costco or Target with money to spare! I am writing this post to avoid my overwhelming need to yell REALLY loudly screaming into the desert. Why, you might ask? Well, because my typing speed probably cannot be measured it is so archaic. I know, big news right!? I remember when I was nineteen I was proud that I could type thirty two words per minute! A whole staggering thrirty two words per minute and while using both hands; one AND two. Now I sit here struggling, (laying down really) after driving too much today my back is demanding I lay flat. Yes demanding and screaming, such a party popper which is my own body.
About my current one fingered wonder of a performance. It is not even with much speed, annoyingly, but it lets me do what I want. In this case it is venting this after I so pathetically tried to type out a peom with some accuracy to no avail. This should be a marked talent I think! There should be a one fingered typist holiday in honor of all one fingered ninja (because everything sounds cooler with the word Ninja in front of it!) spoonie warrior princesses out there. All that matters is the fact that I can still type! Hallelujah! I do in fact have a program (Dragon, hail to thee!) that would type for me. I find that just isn't fun, I like the soft click of keys or the rapid taps that sound when excitement or inspiration strikestrike me. Without inspiration what is left? To degress into the stone age and find solace by staring at the wall?? The wall is so purdy! It is white and not yet padded. It also comes with a highly prized fashionable, yet matching to those walls, straight jacket. All would be jealous. To all that... No thanks! I have been there and done that. Jusr kidding, I have in fact somehow managed to stave of the matching set of the 'yes your crazy and welcome to offical insanity' package. Falling asleep with your eyes open does not a skill make. Too bad for that! Plus it tends to freak people out. Nope, not dead yet!! I myself think it is a hilarious zombie in training skill type of skill set. ;)
I would be typing much faster and longer, if my hands aka my middle finger (hmm, do you think there is a subconscious gesture there??) were not rebelling at this juncture. Right now I choose to be that optimistic twenty year old! Okay, maybe the rebel too. SUCK it RA and SLE because you will not get the best of me!! You do not make me. You may shape me. You may even joint replace me, but no, you will definitely not make me.
I type with one finger proudly because I know myself to be a uniquely strong willed individual, or more simply put I am more stubborn than a mule donkey and ox combined; Eeyore you know I love you still. Again, just for good measure, I say/bellow to myself "Suck it RA/SLE!!!" (I would yell this out loudly but I pride myself in the fact that my son's do not, as of yet, believe that their Mother is a full fledged nutter. Besides wouldn't want to irk my neighbors, I like them. Yes scaring away one's mini me's and neighbors would definitely be frowned upon in good ole suburbia!)
I type with one finger proudly because I know myself to be a uniquely strong willed individual, or more simply put I am more stubborn than a mule donkey and ox combined; Eeyore you know I love you still. Again, just for good measure, I say/bellow to myself "Suck it RA/SLE!!!" (I would yell this out loudly but I pride myself in the fact that my son's do not, as of yet, believe that their Mother is a full fledged nutter. Besides wouldn't want to irk my neighbors, I like them. Yes scaring away one's mini me's and neighbors would definitely be frowned upon in good ole suburbia!)
This whole thought, who am I kidding? Thought!? Really Rebecca Christine?!? When do you ever have one single thought? I would need medications for THAT, indeed the plural and emphasis on th we 'S.' As I was saying these thoughts happened to come about when I realised it has taken me three days, of starts and stops (between the driving of my 12, 16 and 18 year olds to Jr. High, High School and College. Yes, I am having to drive my 18 year old to COLLEGE....another long story) of typing out and editing my poetry and book. The poems alone are ones I consider and call "shorts" This is only the poetry and one book in progress. I am not even including in the short stories or poems I have written on paper. The thirteen chapters of my intended book have yet to be salvaged all the way, I better not get into THAT story, another long one too. If I remember the password to my journal then I have even more stories there. Except how do you salvage an open a document that is password protected. I cannot get Word to salvage it because it must first open the document and it cannot because of the password and encryption I had added onto it ten years ago. At this point I am worried, even my older poetry files have all opened. Why Word? WHY!?
Back to the original rant of thoughts yet again. I did take notice while tapping away (seriously, I cannot in good faith claim to be typing) that for every THREE, yes I said three keys. For every three whole keys I have entered, my hands were hitting the wrong keys with an average of one, okay, probably two times. Yes, having RA/SLE makes your hands have a mind of their own, you tell them to bend here only to have them bend there. Thus, delete, delete, delete, followed by a deluge of non pretty language in your head, because your typing is now with one single finger and you didn't last long trying to make both hands function. Apparently shear will power is not a super power.
Darn that rebel teenager (you know the one who did not say a curse word until she was almost sixteen, then had to stop herself from surreptitiously checking if her Mom was somehow nearby even though said Mom was fluent in pirating sailor.) and her interesting uses of sailor speak for distracting you yet again. Shame on her for wanting to take a mallet then torch the pieces of her laptop, computer, Kindle Fire, tablet AND beloved cell phone, because she just knows they all out to plot against her and her SPECIAL non jazzy hands.
The poems will just have to wait until later, when insomnia strikes and I start writing more poetry with my Kindle Fire. Gosh darn it, that means I will have even more to retype into the laptop with Word. My poetry entries I write with an app :/ Thus ends my conundrum. My hands, they have problems but I do not since I am a special princess. We can all dream. ;)
Darn that rebel teenager (you know the one who did not say a curse word until she was almost sixteen, then had to stop herself from surreptitiously checking if her Mom was somehow nearby even though said Mom was fluent in pirating sailor.) and her interesting uses of sailor speak for distracting you yet again. Shame on her for wanting to take a mallet then torch the pieces of her laptop, computer, Kindle Fire, tablet AND beloved cell phone, because she just knows they all out to plot against her and her SPECIAL non jazzy hands.
The poems will just have to wait until later, when insomnia strikes and I start writing more poetry with my Kindle Fire. Gosh darn it, that means I will have even more to retype into the laptop with Word. My poetry entries I write with an app :/ Thus ends my conundrum. My hands, they have problems but I do not since I am a special princess. We can all dream. ;)
Be well,
Rebecca C. Cardenas
No comments:
Post a Comment