Inner Monologue

I cme ito work this morning and discverd my computerkeybard wont typle all the letters I press, no matter how sloly I go. I mean, I know I'm a quick typer and all--approximately 90 words-perminute, which is comfortbly above the 40-70 wpm average--but Iv'e never had a problem with this keyboard before. There doesn't seem to be a consistant way to anticipate which letter wi fail me, and I'm fidig the bakspace button is faulty too. Of course this comes as a concern since I hoped to finish a pile of homework today, usuing this very computer. Asisgnmnets have relly started to stack up now that it's almst the end of the smsteer and everything seems to be due, all at once, for all my classes. I'm sure most college students can relate--probly professors too, since theyr the ones who have to grade everythign we turn in.

It's awkward to be without the use of letters adn kyboard functions. It makes me feel unesy and ncomplete, as well as most readers, I dare say. Sure, the words are still moreor less ditinguishable, but the absence of leers, especialy consonants, forces readers to be more engaged in a piece. They can't just ski right over the pge because sometimes they have to really decide if I actually meant to say ski, or skim, or maybe skip, with a p. Ski makes for an interesting and vivivde expression I guess.

I think sometimes readers don't give writers enough credit for choosing specific words and placing them exactly where they mean to go. I've had more comments like "I don't know if you meant to do this..." from peers on pieces I've written than I know what to do with. I would never insult someone by wondering if, in the careful construction of their work, they "meant to" write something. Typically, whenever I've had that comment, yes, I've "meant to." I don't know what that really says about me as a writer-- maybe my word choice needs to be even more clear. The point is that maybe sometimes I "mean to" write ski insteand of skim or skip, and that "means" I probably want particular attention paid to my point. Assume I did "mean to" say They can't just ski right over the page. I kind of like the image of eyes skiing across the page, graceful on the slope as they cascade downward through my essay toward the end of the piece where they ski to a stop, a spray of linguistic snow punctuating a successful run. It's a pretty metaphore. I might keep it in mind for later, when my keyboard is working properly again.

In my soap-boxing, it seems I failed to notice that my keyboard is working properly again, miraculously.

I think it would be interesting if our verbal keyboards stalled every once in a while. What if my tongue stopped pronouncing the letter E for a while? I think my sppech would probably sound like it had a lot of static interference if my cranial keyboard broke, only there wouldn't be any static-- just my voice going in and out, destroying old words and creating new ones with the remains. Maybe if I smacked myself across the fact it might knock the Es back into me, like hitting a TV set which screen is skipping and rolling.

I don't think the loss of my thumbs would inhibit typing very much. It certainly makes things a little less comfortable since I'm so used to keeping my fingers on their assigned keys, but I've typed this whole paragraph without using my thumbs, so there's proff that it's do-able and relatively plainless, if not annoying.

To me, there are few more frustrating situations than the times I feel like I'm not communicating well, whether it's due to a faulty keyboard, or the inability to think of a specific word, or I'v estayed up all night talking to my best friend watching video clips on youtube.com because we had too much Diet Coke at 1am. The days following those unintentional all-nighters are the worst kind for me because I don't anticipate being so foggy. At least when I plan an all-nighter I can plan on feeling like a zombie the next day and take appropriate measures to compensate, like securing ample amounts of Sobe No Fear energy drinks (the only kind that doesn't taste like mashed up and liquified Skittles to me). But really, grappling for the exact phrasing and having it just out of grasp causes such grief-- knowing the direction you want to take in a paper but not knowing how to get there; verbal miscommunication because of language barriers, mental blocks, etc. Clear phraseology could determine getting correct directions to a destination, or a serous medical diagnosis, not to mention the fulfillment of expressing yourself to your satisfaction. What if a pharmacist's computer keyboard broke and he didn't notice? A bottle of medicine might direct a patient to Take 100 mg daily when it really meant to say Take 10 mg daily. Pretty soon you'd land yourself in the hospital-- or worse-- having seriously overmedicated yourself, all because of a communicative mistake.

It's a good thing this keyboard has fixed itself in time for me to get cracking on my German homework. I shudder to think about German assignments with missing and mixed up letters. I can hardly get the umlauts right as it is.