Making a proper "thumbs down" gesture. As you can see from the lead photo, I can't properly convey my displeasure with situations. It looks like an upside down "pistol" sign.
Typing. I usually type about 130 words per minute (years of MUDding and chatting will do that to you). Right now, I'm putting in a blazing 22 wpm. And thank God for spell check. This blog post has been a pain to put together. If not for the fact that the painkillers and the pain are working in conjunction to keep my sleep as random as possible I probably would just repost something from the archives.
Making a sandwich. Every morning I make my wife a sack lunch. She loves my homemade peanut butter and pear preserve sandwiches. I have a very specific ratio of peanut butter to pear preserve. I even have the perfect spreading technique. I cut the sandwich into triangles (because really, what kind of loveless heathen cuts them into rectangles?), pack it into a Ziploc sandwich baggie, write her a sweet note (which is also REALLY difficult), and kiss her goodbye.
This morning... Well, I'll just let this short photo essay speak for itself:
Balancing the checkbook. I had to write a few checks yesterday. In order to keep things sane, I needed to balance the checkbook. Below is my normal writing (which is pretty awful, I'll admit):
This is my writing with my left hand:
Balancing, period. Remember the literal crash course I mentioned? I was groggy the night I got home from the surgery, and while going up the stairs, I slipped and lost my balance. I reached out with my right hand to brace for the fall. That pretty much sucked. And since then, I've found myself clunking the splint against the handrail when ascending or descending amy stairs.
Writing a conclusion to a "list of things" blog post. Okay, you got me. I've always sucked at that.