Sorry, but I’m not yet done with this “typing neck”/laryngitis metaphor.
Cause, like I say, I have to write. But, see, a compounding issue is that my netbook keyboard has gotten gunked up over time, causing many of the keys to become nearly impossible to press. Some of them need extra pressure. Some need extra time.
The extra pressure ones wreak havoc on my neck in the same way that speaking in a cacophonous environment, which requires SHOUTING, wreaks havoc on a laryngitis sufferer — every digital utterance reinforces the otherwise receding damage to my weary, head-supporting shoulder crown. Add to that the need to change tension levels when encountering keys requiring extra time plus the unhinging suspense of waiting to see when the letters will appear and you’ll surely realize that, for me, to type; to speak, if you will, has been to dance inside a hamster’s wheel of strain.
Of course, I can’t buy the canned air you use to address the gunking issue ’cause (surprise!) I have no money. And the one guy I know who might have had the stuff fucked me over by having a stroke before he could answer the tweet in which I asked. Fortunately, the very same extra virgin olive oil that moisturizes my skin serves as a fabulous lubricant for a deep auto-massage of the neck and shoulders, the kind that provides much-needed relief when suffering the familiar dilemma I’ve just described. Unfortunately, while auto-massaging during a waking moment of the the just-passed night, I accidentally poured oil onto my keyboard.
And the netbook was on.
I hastily turned it off lest there be electrical eruptions of some kind.
I wiped it and turned it upside down to drain onto a t-shirt.
I went back to sleep.
But come morningtime, would my computer even work? Or would I now be like a man whose larynx has been removed? (Yes, I’ve already referred to that notion as well.)
Okay, it went on. I only touchpadded for a while, letting the heat of the machine evaporate any residual oil. Finally, I pressed the keys unintentionally, having forgotten that I shouldn’t.
Oh, my God. The keyboard issues were almost completely fixed. Olive oil is to a gunked up keyboard as a police visit is to a cacophonous room. It is tea with honey and lemon for the digital age. My fingers no longer have to shout. My neck/larynx need suffer no more strain.
It’s good for cooking too.