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desperanceI hope we all learned something today.
For me, I have learned this: that damage recovery takes longer than I'm ready for. If I had put in this much keyboard-time a month ago, I'd have had two thousand words or more behind me by now, and I'd be happy and charging forward.
Today? I don't believe I've achieved half that. And I am sullen, because almost all of me believes that I should have done; and I am still dragging myself onward, and it's all grim and lightless and without tone or form.
Also, if I were to believe anything my hand tells me today, I would believe that it's gone backwards. Today I cannot reach into my pocket without yelling. And the idiot cat has attempted his favourite idiot leap to the top of a bookcase that is already piled high with boxes; he does this regularly, with always the same result, that all those boxes come tumbling down alongside of him, and then he has to run away while I shout and put all the boxes back. And this time he pulled a boxful of paperclips off a shelf as he fell, and they are now glitteringly strewn all over the floor, and something else I cannot do is reach down to pick up paperclips. I could get down on my knees and scrabble, I suppose, but - well. Tomorrow.
For me, I have learned this: that damage recovery takes longer than I'm ready for. If I had put in this much keyboard-time a month ago, I'd have had two thousand words or more behind me by now, and I'd be happy and charging forward.
Today? I don't believe I've achieved half that. And I am sullen, because almost all of me believes that I should have done; and I am still dragging myself onward, and it's all grim and lightless and without tone or form.
Also, if I were to believe anything my hand tells me today, I would believe that it's gone backwards. Today I cannot reach into my pocket without yelling. And the idiot cat has attempted his favourite idiot leap to the top of a bookcase that is already piled high with boxes; he does this regularly, with always the same result, that all those boxes come tumbling down alongside of him, and then he has to run away while I shout and put all the boxes back. And this time he pulled a boxful of paperclips off a shelf as he fell, and they are now glitteringly strewn all over the floor, and something else I cannot do is reach down to pick up paperclips. I could get down on my knees and scrabble, I suppose, but - well. Tomorrow.
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(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-17 08:38 pm (UTC)The version I heard was that his dictation favoured conversation which quickly degenerated into shouting quarrels, rather like improvisation by people who aren't very good at it, but would be able to write scripts if left alone for a week.
> without using my hands; how would I write?
Dictate to webcam in sign language. Then your typist can be remote, so it's an ideal solution unless, by any chance, you're not fluent in signing.