I am, right this very second, supposed to be writing.
Sir Tessa is sitting across from me1 and she's working industriously.
I am not.2
Instead I am trying out Sir Tessa's new portable ergonomic keyboard. I am not succeeding overly well at typing with this contraption, because the keys are in the wrong space! They're also labelled weirdly, but, being a touch-typist, that's not so disturbing on the whole.
Being a touch-typist is also part of the problem, however. It means my fingers know precisely where the keys should be, and they're not there any more. Y and B are particularly troublesome: those two keys are supposed to be hit by the right and left index fingers, respectively. But I tend to indulge in some crossing of the keyboard, depending on the word in question, so every second time I try to hit either one of them I go for it with the wrong index finger and end up stabbing the table.
Yeah, I look pretty incapable right about now.
Maybe I'll go back to hunting and pecking. That's probably better for the wrists anyway.
- Well, she was, when we sat down. For all I know, given she's leant me her laptop riser stand and thus I can't see anything behind the screen, she's got up and run away, leaving me all alone in the library… [↩]
- She's gonna be so disappointed in me, when she realises what I've been doing with my time… [↩]