Day 45: lockdown as linguistic rot
I am still slightly flabbergasted by how much being in lockdown basically suits me: I don't have to go anywhere or talk to anyone other than the odd Zoom meeting, in most of which I sit quietly and play a personal game of "faculty self-arsepipe-insertion bingo", and I am really perfectly contented noodling around the house playing The Witcher and poking the garden and chatting to the cats while making odd forays into baking or randomly elaborate meals just because I can. I am not going stir-crazy because the internet, and therefore the world, is in my head. But it is having its inevitable side-effect, which is a noticeable drift into linguistic ham-fistedness. Because, apparently, if one hasn't held a conversation in a while, how does one word, anyway?
I have noticed my emails becoming incoherent at times, there have been two occasions in the last few days when I've sent something I could swear was carefully written, and have had immediately to send a clarifcation and apology when reading back my own words. I had to trundle out to the dentist on Friday, as my annoying crown had done its usual party trick of stashing bits of food under the tooth (usually meat shreds, causing moments when vegetarian actually seems like a seductive option) in such a position that no amount of flossing would dislodge them and the pain levels were actively preventing me from sleeping - the lovely dentist man had to pop the crown off and clean underneath, and kindly skimmed the surrounding teeth to close the gap before popping it back, hooray, no vegetarianism necessary. But there were three separate occasions in the dentist trip which I made some comment which seemed clear enough as I spoke but was completely misunderstood, and in retrospect I can completely see why, the statement was kinda loose and drifty. Framing thoughts for verbal statement clearly needs practice, particularly if you're me and tend to shape ideas mentally on a fairly geological time-scale, which is why I prefer to write them.
Anyway. Tooth now sorted, and possibly I should try and blog more than a couple of times a week, because at least that forces me to compose sentences. And the lovely dentist is also a spectacle-wearing lifeform and gave me useful tips on how to futz with a mask to reduce the glasses-fogging effect (answer: rigid wire nose-piece, and twist the ear loops so the mask gapes very slightly on both sides, allowing another path of escape for all that warm, moist air). So we are, if somewhat incoherently, ahead on points. This entry was originally posted at https://freckles-and-doubt.dreamwidth.org/980507.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
I have noticed my emails becoming incoherent at times, there have been two occasions in the last few days when I've sent something I could swear was carefully written, and have had immediately to send a clarifcation and apology when reading back my own words. I had to trundle out to the dentist on Friday, as my annoying crown had done its usual party trick of stashing bits of food under the tooth (usually meat shreds, causing moments when vegetarian actually seems like a seductive option) in such a position that no amount of flossing would dislodge them and the pain levels were actively preventing me from sleeping - the lovely dentist man had to pop the crown off and clean underneath, and kindly skimmed the surrounding teeth to close the gap before popping it back, hooray, no vegetarianism necessary. But there were three separate occasions in the dentist trip which I made some comment which seemed clear enough as I spoke but was completely misunderstood, and in retrospect I can completely see why, the statement was kinda loose and drifty. Framing thoughts for verbal statement clearly needs practice, particularly if you're me and tend to shape ideas mentally on a fairly geological time-scale, which is why I prefer to write them.
Anyway. Tooth now sorted, and possibly I should try and blog more than a couple of times a week, because at least that forces me to compose sentences. And the lovely dentist is also a spectacle-wearing lifeform and gave me useful tips on how to futz with a mask to reduce the glasses-fogging effect (answer: rigid wire nose-piece, and twist the ear loops so the mask gapes very slightly on both sides, allowing another path of escape for all that warm, moist air). So we are, if somewhat incoherently, ahead on points. This entry was originally posted at https://freckles-and-doubt.dreamwidth.org/980507.html. Please comment there using OpenID.