I Think It Says Something Good

Truth of the matter is - I wasn’t going to be here today. At 9:00am I was scheduled to appear at the courthouse. Not surprisingly though, my attorney called to notify me that he just received word from my soon-to-be-ex’s attorney that she was too ill for court today. 

I’m not heartless regarding any illness she may (or may not), have. However, she should follow the advise of the Judge who told her a month ago that if she can’t appear in court, she is to find a substitute attorney that can. She has managed to post pone this particular court hearing by four months already. Will today’s too sick for gym class excuse prove to be effective or will it just further irk the court - I think it’s safe to say she will succeed at doing both.

But, that's not important. What is important is that I’m noticing the more I type, the less able I am to write by hand. Not only does my brain come to a startlingly slow snail's pace when forming the letters necessary to form the words, but the muscles in my hand act as if they don’t know what on earth I’m asking them to do.

Over the last year, when writing notes to myself or God forbid a greeting card for another, my handwriting borders on being totally illegible. My fingers struggle to make the necessary shapes that, not so long ago, flowed from my nimble fingers with ease. I’ve even caught myself staring at an envelope, the ink not even dry from having scribbled the address, and wondered, how on earth is the post office going to know where to send this?

I can type fast. Too fast at times. But it seems I can no longer hand write with any speed whatsoever. I am embarrassed to say I’ve even had to pause to recall how to make certain letters in cursive; Zs and Qs being the culprits that stump me most often. 

When writing in a greeting card, I often have to use a few cards before I get it just right. At times, I’ve resorted to printing out the message I want to write, only because I fear the recipient won’t be able to read it if I use my own handwriting. And the whole point of the card is to convey a message. But messages printed from the computer seem too impersonal. On the flip side, I don’t care to send something to someone just to force them to decipher what, upon first glance, appears to be hieroglyphics.

Of course, I believe my handwriting (as God awful as it is), is still better than that of my attorney. I don’t think even he can read his own handwriting. I’ve caught him staring at his notes, face scrunched, heading slowly shaking from side to side; all of which are the outward manifestation of his mind concluding (after having noodled it over long enough), that he doesn’t have a clue what he had jotted down. A situation that is always a bit unsettling. 

Good handwriting is a dying art it seems. I’m in awe of someone who has exceptional handwriting. Looking at their words is like looking at written art. Like many things, due to the advancements made in certain parts of life, there are declines made in others. 

As I said, I hadn’t planned on being here, right now, today. But as always, I enjoyed myself. If you enjoyed yourself - please feel free to forward my blog on to others. 

Sane