A Leftist
I am exercising my right---or rather my left today. I am naturally left handed, forced into the right by some well meaning nuns.
To compensate, I became ambidextrous. Decades of living in a right handed world forced me to write only right handed.
I'm told I have very nice handwriting, but I grip my pen like some poor unfortunate with palsy. The sight of me writing long hand for any length of time looks painful. And it is. Hard as I tried I could never learn to hold my writing tools like a normal person. Yet, I can do so naturally with my left. Go figure.
My brain fights me every chance it gets. Despite the fact that I have surrendered to a right handed world, I still start everything with my left. When I climb stairs, I start with the left foot. When I open doors, it's the left hand---or the right hand on a left hand door.
One of my painting professors used to scratch his head in disbelief because I would paint with my right hand but I would keep my palette on my left. ---it's not been an easy life.
Anyway, my right hand has been over exercised lately and it finally gave out on me. So today, my mouse is under my left hand, while I baby my right.
I'm okay flipping back and forth, but conditioning insists that my mouse should be on my right. I have to look down at my desk every so often to remind me that it changed addresses.
I'm told teachers don't force children to be right handed anymore. That's good and bad. I don't resent the nuns forcing me to be right handed. While it's been a painful process---especially when that wooden ruler came out, it's nice to have other options when your regular hand is out of commission.
*****
Did garage sales this morning and nearly came home with a dog. (Don't faint, Greg)
This couple had a little Dachshund and of course I had to talk to him first. When I finished my browsing, I didn't realize the little guy followed me back to my car. I see the wife running after me and screaming the dog's name. I look down and there he was, wagging his tail.
"Honest, lady. He followed me home."
To compensate, I became ambidextrous. Decades of living in a right handed world forced me to write only right handed.
I'm told I have very nice handwriting, but I grip my pen like some poor unfortunate with palsy. The sight of me writing long hand for any length of time looks painful. And it is. Hard as I tried I could never learn to hold my writing tools like a normal person. Yet, I can do so naturally with my left. Go figure.
My brain fights me every chance it gets. Despite the fact that I have surrendered to a right handed world, I still start everything with my left. When I climb stairs, I start with the left foot. When I open doors, it's the left hand---or the right hand on a left hand door.
One of my painting professors used to scratch his head in disbelief because I would paint with my right hand but I would keep my palette on my left. ---it's not been an easy life.
Anyway, my right hand has been over exercised lately and it finally gave out on me. So today, my mouse is under my left hand, while I baby my right.
I'm okay flipping back and forth, but conditioning insists that my mouse should be on my right. I have to look down at my desk every so often to remind me that it changed addresses.
I'm told teachers don't force children to be right handed anymore. That's good and bad. I don't resent the nuns forcing me to be right handed. While it's been a painful process---especially when that wooden ruler came out, it's nice to have other options when your regular hand is out of commission.
*****
Did garage sales this morning and nearly came home with a dog. (Don't faint, Greg)
This couple had a little Dachshund and of course I had to talk to him first. When I finished my browsing, I didn't realize the little guy followed me back to my car. I see the wife running after me and screaming the dog's name. I look down and there he was, wagging his tail.
"Honest, lady. He followed me home."
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