Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Seven Finger Typing

I learned to properly type back in school. Curses. 

Eleven days ago, I smashed my finger when I tried to e-cycle an old computer tower. I'm lucky enough to live in a city where e-cycling is free, but it's not without peril. After signing in, I drove to the dumpster at the Public Works building. Imagine my surprise when I found a massive steel vessel towering at least two feet over my head and nearly overflowing with battered televisions and abandoned printers. 

Being a responsible citizen, I hoisted my ancient Dell over my head, and swung it down in an arc to propel it over the lip of the dumpster. It should have worked, but my left hand was too slow and became trapped between the lip of steel and the fast-falling fifteen pound chunk of junk. 

CRUNCH!

I couldn't type for a week, and when I tried this past weekend, I gave up after an hour. It's just the tip of my ring finger and a portion of the middle finger, but you try typing a novel without the use of the letter E. 




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