read the sound of my voice
I installed dictation software on my computer. It is not nearly as efficient as typing, but it is not as bad as I thought it would be. You would be surprised how much time you spend just thinking anyway.
I am worried that there is something seriously wrong with me. Up until now, I was leading something approximating a normal life. At this time I have no idea whether or not I will be able to continue on that path.
Perhaps I am an overworried hypochondriac. The facts are these: 1. I'm finding it difficult to use a computer. 2. My legs drive me crazy when I try to sleep. 3. Walking more than a few steps here and there hurts my feet.
I am in the process of making another appointment to see my doctor. I went to the home health care store yesterday, and the lady there told me that she's not a doctor and she discouraged me from purchasing compression stockings. That was probably the right thing to do, but I am impatient. (I did not express this impatience to her.) It could be a long time before I can see my doctor again. As with any good doctor, the receptionist's line is busy. Would going to emergency be going over my new doctor's head? Well, I will try the phone again now.
Okay, it is not so bad: I have an appointment for tomorrow evening.
Today I may be getting a new bed. The current bed is too short and creaks far too much considering the numbers it entertains. A new bed will not solve my problems, but it will be more comfortable. I'm also in the market for a new desk chair. I found a pretty good one at Staples yesterday. I'd be in the market for a new desk but I didn't see any that were height-adjustable. The keyboard trays were all too lowly placed for me. Conversely, I think I've effed myself up a bit by using my laptop on top of high tables. In those situations, the keypad height was probably too high.
Now for some coffee, and maybe some hope for better days ahead. I hope not to have to rely on this technology for very long. The neutral tone demanded of dictation affects my prose, rendering it flat and lifeless.
I am worried that there is something seriously wrong with me. Up until now, I was leading something approximating a normal life. At this time I have no idea whether or not I will be able to continue on that path.
Perhaps I am an overworried hypochondriac. The facts are these: 1. I'm finding it difficult to use a computer. 2. My legs drive me crazy when I try to sleep. 3. Walking more than a few steps here and there hurts my feet.
I am in the process of making another appointment to see my doctor. I went to the home health care store yesterday, and the lady there told me that she's not a doctor and she discouraged me from purchasing compression stockings. That was probably the right thing to do, but I am impatient. (I did not express this impatience to her.) It could be a long time before I can see my doctor again. As with any good doctor, the receptionist's line is busy. Would going to emergency be going over my new doctor's head? Well, I will try the phone again now.
Okay, it is not so bad: I have an appointment for tomorrow evening.
Today I may be getting a new bed. The current bed is too short and creaks far too much considering the numbers it entertains. A new bed will not solve my problems, but it will be more comfortable. I'm also in the market for a new desk chair. I found a pretty good one at Staples yesterday. I'd be in the market for a new desk but I didn't see any that were height-adjustable. The keyboard trays were all too lowly placed for me. Conversely, I think I've effed myself up a bit by using my laptop on top of high tables. In those situations, the keypad height was probably too high.
Now for some coffee, and maybe some hope for better days ahead. I hope not to have to rely on this technology for very long. The neutral tone demanded of dictation affects my prose, rendering it flat and lifeless.