I used to have great handwriting. It was always neat and easy to read. If there was one thing I never had to worry about during school, it was whether or not teachers could read my handwriting. It’s changed over the years, from bubbly and cute when I was younger to elegant, feminine script when I was older. When I was in college, it was still neat, but slightly stylized, artsy even sometimes.
I was also pretty good at changing handwriting styles at the drop of a hat too– which made me pretty good at forging. And if you flipped through a notebook from my high school days, you could see the various handwriting styles I had adopted and tried out over the year.
Now, I barely write anything with a pen, outside of writing on a whiteboard (where I can still write neatly and clearly in slightly stylized all capital letters). I sit in front of one computer or another at least eight hours a day, usually more, and I can type God-knows-how-fast for God-knows-how-long even with highly manicured long fingernails. I’ve even passed the point where I’ve either adopted better typing practices or I’ve just gotten used to the repetitive stress. I can barely remember a time when I didn’t know how to type, using correct home keys and everything, just like I can barely remember a time before computers.
And now when I do need to write something, my hand cramps up and I painfully etch out chicken scratch on post-its, legal pads, and the like. I hate taking notes by hand. I don’t even like using a stylus– I prefer to type everything out, including on my Blackberry. The only thing I can still do effortlessly is sign my name.
This is our future.