Ah, the first of many long, meandering and sometimes highschool essay-ish posts...
For me typing is cathartic. When we had to take keyboarding class with Mr. Hipple in 7th grade it was HORRIBLE and I absolutely hated every minute of that class. I thought it was dumb and a waste of time.
Silly me... 15 years later my profession is to type.
In highschool I started liking typing more and thought that it was fun to see how fast I could be on those online WPM tests. I was ok, not great, but I liked it and the competitive streak in me wanted to always be faster and better.
In college I typed EVERYTHING I could get my hands on. I would type and then retype papers instead of editing the first draft just because it made so much more sense to me to get the "flow" as I went. And because I physically liked typing. Good thing, being an English Lit major since all I ever did was read and analyze and make up the most far-fetched rediculous crap I could and use the magic of words to pull off a very pretty A- (side note - it's a totally, utterly worthless degree unless you are going to pursue library science, law, or teaching, none of which I was interested in then - but that's a whole different story/post).
Actually, I honestly read very little of what I should have based on what was required for college; but, again, I digress...
I LOVE typing. I love sitting at a computer, or typewriter for that matter, letting my fingers do all the thinking. People wonder how we can listen to what doctor's say and come out not remembering very little of it... it's because our fingers are trained to compose accurate masterpieces - yes, I really believe that - of the medical documents that would otherwise look and read like the incredibly poor speakers that so many physicians are. Scary to think that my life might actually depend on one of them someday.
But, back to my main point - if there was really one to start with - now as transcription as we know it is changing, evolving or devolving depending on with whom you speak, and as I fill my new role as department lead I am once again finding myself (for lack of a better analogy) like a fish out of water. My fingers still want to type so that my soul can process without getting my brain too involved. Journaling helps a little bit (and I'm addicted to pens almost as much as I am to shoes - those of you who have seen my closet know that this is not a confession to be taken lightly), but my brain goes faster than my sorely youthful and yet arthritic hands will go. I miss words and whole phrases sometimes and, Lord, how hard it is to decipher after the fact! I want to keep track of my memories and I want to have an excuse to type.
The answer - blogging! Well, at least for now that will probably be the answer. So many people are doing it, why not?
My boyfriend will definitely have an opinion though... Being a computer programmer, designer, senior architect person who builds websites for a living, last I talked to him about it, he thinks that blogger is total crap. Oh well, it's mine and Marie Antionette would say "Let them type words!"... well, maybe she wouldn't say that, but it sounded like a good outro... *sigh*
p.s. If you plan on following this, my first attempt at public extemporization be prepared for random, wordy, at times obnoxious, pathetic!, incomprehensible, rediculous posts. I can only hope that someday I make more sense to myself and the world around that has to listen to me!
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