Coded green.

Saturday 19 July 2003

Tree in fall colors in summer

Pic of the day: I saw this tree shriveling up too early, and could sympathize.

Self sabotage?

Well, you have to wonder. I can feel this particular muscle that goes from my shoulder up the side of my neck, on the right side. It may play a pretty big role in the whole "hurting hand" syndrome ... It seems to pull on the stuff under it, and so on, down to the back of my hand. Yet even though I can feel this muscle and the tension in it, I seem unable to relax it.

That's just plain weird. I mean, it's my body, right? If I decide to lift my hand, I lift my hand. If I want to sit down or stand up, I just do it. So why not this? Why does it ignore me, as if it had a will of its own, and continue to contract painfully?

Of course, "it" the muscle does not have any choice in the matter; it follows order from the brain. There is some kind of function in my software that causes this reaction. It could be as simple as a response to the inflammation or the pressure on the nerves down in my wrist. Or it could be something else entirely. Perhaps some part of my soul trying to force a break with my current lifestyle, which depends so strongly on my hand. Why, for instance, does my muscles lock up painfully after typing a few words at work, while at home it takes several paragraphs? It could just be the keyboard and the angle ... but at work I actually have a gel-filled wrist support, while at home I have no such thing. Highly suspicious, if you ask me.

***

But it does not just hurt my work. I have been typing since I was around 5 years old, and after I moved out from my parents' home at 15 it became one of my primary modes of thinking. The paper and later, the computer screen is for me an extension of the brain cortex. In later years, it is even my most important way of communicating: I type more than I talk, most days. And it is not as if, without it, I would magically revert to a more normal lifestyle. It is far, far too late for that.


Yesterday <-- This month --> Tomorrow?
One year ago: I want my acid
Two years ago: More e-books! More, more!
Three years ago: Alcoholic beverages
Four years ago: Stupid ISP and the pursuit of happiness

Visit the Diary Farm for the older diaries I've put out to pasture.


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