Or, you know you’ve written too much when…
photo credit: anniebee
There was a ton of client work that needed to be done today, so I am pooped.
The pads of my fingers have grown numb.
Except the little bit under my nails, that part itches.
It’s true what they say you know, typing really does make your nails grow faster which is annoying because I like mine short as:
- Hello? Breeding ground for bacteria?
- That clackety clack sound that long nails make on the keyboard.
- You know how some people’s nails stay clean and other people’s stay dirty? Mine want to start their own microfarms.
And if you type enough every day, you can actually feel your nails growing, which is an extremely creepy-crawly-icky feeling.
My eyeballs feel swollen, as if they are going to pop out of my head at any second. The rectangular glow of my monitor appears to have burned into my corneas. Will my eyes need to be degaussed? Can you degauss an eyeball?
Am dreading visit to the ophthalmologist when he asks me how I got glowing rectangles burned into my eyes and I tell him it’s because I stared at my monitor for 6 hours straight and he tells me I shouldn’t have done that and I have to kick him in the gonads.
Keep hearing the voice of a thousand grammarians whispering “avoid the passive voice, avoid the passive voice” and I’m trying really hard but I’m not sure I even know what that means.
Have realized I don’t care if my readers are engaged, I just want them to sit down, shut up and listen.
But I don’t think I can make them do that because I’m probably using the passive voice all the time and I don’t even know it and who the heck is going to sit down and shut up and listen when passively commanded to do so?
Lost voice from screaming at spell and grammar check because it just can’t seem to understand that those are not fragments, those are style. Do not be squiggly green underlining my style, you uncultured, illiterate wizard!
Never a good idea to switch off between writing for English and American clients in the same session, most confusing with the Us and the Z/Ss and never knowing which kind of chip I really mean. Kicking myself for advertising myself as a bilingual ghostwriter.
Feeling self conscious that the muscles in my mouse-forearm are so much more shapely, indeed sinewy, than the ones on my esc-tab-capslock-forearm. Realize there is something wrong with orienting yourself in space by where you are in relation to your computer.
Have that sinking feeling that no more productive writing will come out of you tonight yet your circadian rhythms are all out of whack from the artificial computer light and that you’ll be tossing and turning for an hour.
But somehow still manage to get this blog post in half an hour before the day officially ends, because I am one stubborn hack.
