April 28th, 2006


Wrist Pain & Reunions

As another sign of my quickly approaching old age, today's magic word is ergonomics. Lately, I've been waking up with numb hands, have been experiencing wrist tenderness and my forearms have felt weird after typing for long stretches. Come to think of it, I've been heavily attached to computers for the last 13 years. I'm guessing that my shunning of wrist pads and natural keyboards has finally caught up to me.

Today, I forked over good money for a keyboard pad that looked blue in the store and now looks purple in my apartment. Outside of the fashion issues, the additional hardware isn't slowing my typing as I long suspected it might. It does feel a bit awkward... although it's probably worth it if I'm doing right by my body. At 28, I guess I'm approaching the point in my life where I realize that I'm supposed to keep joints, muscles and such working for another 40 or 50 years. Oh, how I mourn the passing my ignorant bliss.

The good news to all of this is that my trip to Staples reunited me with a long lost friend -- the reporter's notebook. Back in my newspaper days, I always had a notebook with me. Always. Seriously. The things I always carried with me were my wallet, checkbook, watch, notebook, pen and sometimes a pocket knife. See that -- sometimes a knife... always a notebook. I'm in the south, that says something.

When I left the business of reporting, I also left my reporter's notebooks. I've missed them. They are the perfect size for a back pocket. They are large enough to write full journal entries in a cramped airplane seat or on your thigh-as-a-desk in a moment of writing clarity. Unfortunatley, a lot of places in this neck of the woods don't sell them. Wal-Mart? Nope. Office Depot? Nope. So, just on a whim, I swung through the notebook aisle at Staples and found a stash. And just in the nick of time... I'm heading out on a short trip in about, oh, 10 minutes. What better way to break them in.
  • Current Music
    Why We Said Goodbye / Tim McGraw

One More Thing

I left The Blob out on the balcony so the sun could dry it. I was curious as to what sort of metamorphosis might occur. As it dried, I noticed something hard emerging from it's tail. I picked out the object... it was the head to a razor. However, it looks a bit dated. It's white and only has two blades. Every razor I've ever owned has had at least three blades and they've all been gray. So, this confirms that the blob has been hiding out in the drain for quite some time (I moved in sometime in August 2004). Of course, cleaning up other people's problems is just another day in Fletchland. Heh.
  • Current Music
    Nobody Gonna Tell Me What To Do / Van Zant