I’ve been thinking about high school recently. Probably because I received an email that my (muttermutter-revealing age here)-th high school reunion is coming up this summer. I don’t have too many regrets from those years (not that I want to revisit them or anything; they were not my glory days, thank Heaven!), but I have one very substantial, lifelong regret.

I deeply regret that I never learned to type. Mostly I regret this because I… Am… A…Writer.

My mother (yes, let’s blame our mothers, now, that’s always fun) warned me off typing class. “If you take typing, you’ll become a secretary. Take orchestra/choir/physics instead.” I listened.

Oh, Mother! What have you done to me? (she typed, using two fingers on her right hand and three on her left.) I have never used Physics! I stopped playing the violin/cello in…. high school. Okay, so I did use the singing thing. A lot. I followed your advice! But at what cost?

Writing that Master’s Thesis? A special type of torture.  Writing the three thousand words I wrote today? Not as bad, considering I at least enjoy what I’m writing right now. But I could have written more, if I had more fingers to use. (That sounds vaguely Hitchhiker’s Guide-ish. Hmmm.)

But, yeah, you heard me. I am a writing MACHINE. Still, I have about 8,000 words more to go to finish my current WIP, and it has to happen before June 6 and Scotland.

So hello, carpal tunnel!

Gotta go think about diets, hair dye, and Google all my old boyfriends now….