I used to hand write everything.  I loved writing.  I would write long (long) letters to friends and family.  And I loved my handwriting.

I was scolded in school because I hold my pen the “wrong” way.  When I write (I am right-handed), I hold the pen with the thumb underneath (as does everyone) but then I rest the pen against my ring finger and hold it in place with the index and “fuck-you” finger (rather than resting the pen against my fuck-you finger and holding it in place with just the index finger). 

The way I hold a pen (or pencil, or crayon for that matter) gives me more control.  I “draw” the letters more than I “write” them.  Teachers didn’t like how I held my writing tool but they couldn’t argue with the great results!

When I was a wee child, I would take my mom’s shorthand pads, which were all in pencil, and trace over the characters with a pen.  I would do this for hours.

No, I don’t know why.  Clearly, I was an odd child, which probably explains a good deal about my later adventures.

Anyhow.  I learned to type when I was in about 5th or 6th grade.  But my preferred method of communicating was still pen to paper. 

I would still be handwriting everything except for the advent of the personal computer. 

Typing was suddenly much easier (when you type as fast as I do, even electronic typewriters can have trouble keeping up and will skip and stutter on you).  Even better, it was much easier to make corrections and edit. 

Now I seldom hand write anything.  It’s just too slow.  And painful. 

I don’t know if it’s old age or disuse (or, more likely, both – oh and I now have fingernails since gabapentin made me stop biting them off – fingernails are hell on handwriting!), but I can’t write for long periods of time like I used to. 

Even my printing has deteriorated.  When I filled out forms by hand, I would always get complimented on my beautiful printing.  No more. 

I do hand write lines when I am first memorizing them. For me, it’s the best way to get them to stick in my punkin’ head. But once I have them kind-of-memorized, it’s time to switch to the computer so I can pick up speed in pulling them out of my (punkin’) head.

Such is life.

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