by Lorraine Bartlett / Lorna Barrett / L.L. Bartlett
I am useless with my phone. It's a beautiful white iPhone 4 (used) and it lives in a beat-up pink case. (Very cheerful.) I use it quite a bit ... to take photos of martinis at the restaurants Mr. L and I go to.
Okay, Mr. L took this one of me in a joint called O'Keefe's. (Hey, it was cold. I kept my jacket on.)
This one is from a place called the Jolly Roger.
Back to O'Keefe's.
You get the drift. I even made a movie of my cat, Fred (but since have not been able to do it again. Damn).
The thing I really can't do well at all is text. My friend (and former Cozy Chick) Ellery Adams can text faster than the wind. She sends me a text and I painstakingly send her a short message, and then 4 paragraphs come back lickity-split. Oy. And now ... something has happened to my thumb and I will never be able to be a thumb texter. One day I woke up and not only didn't it work anymore, it wouldn't bend, either. According to my quack, it's arthritis. I mean, she just blew it off.
So I ordered turmeric capsules, which just arrived yesterday. I took one so far. It hasn't done much (anything, really).
Luckily, I can still type. Hitting the keyboard's space bar is about all that poor thumb can do these days. And when I'm not typing, it lives in a splint, because otherwise Mr. L will be sitting in his office hearing, "YIPE" all day long when I move it to attempt to do things like seal an envelope full of bookmarks for readers, or stick tape on a package of yet more bookmarks for Cozy Chicks readers. Or even putting a CD in the player under the theory that I might actually write a couple of sentences on the WIP.
So. That's it. I have a useless right thumb. Anybody else got one? If so, how do you cope?