Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. That is what I have. Or so Dr. Dillard said. I could have told him that. Tell me something that I don't know, Dr. Doody-head! Hehe. Okay, you are right: why take out my anger on him? It ain't his fault that neither my keyboard nor my mouse is ergonomic. It's not his fault that I type superfluously on xanga or chat incessantly on msn messenger. Not his fault that I rest my wrist on the table out of habit. Alas, I've acquired the latest syndrome of the internet age.
I suppose I can deal with it. The day Dr. Doo--err, I mean, Dillard diagnosed me, I lost that wrist support brace thing that I got at Walmart. You know: that brace thingy I wore once in a while because my wrist tingled. It also doubled as a fashion statement not to mention as a cool prop with which I could perform my robot-hand act *L.J demonstrates by flexing her wrist back and forth, "jjjhrrrr.....jjjhrrr....jjjjhhrrr"* I wish the wrist support thingy had been black with a metallic sheen, kinda like the chrome-i-ness of that melty-metal guy from Terminator. How cool would that be? Unfortunately, it was skin-colored and looked exactly like what it was: a supportive brace for the masses of same-colored people afflicted with wrist problems.
Anyhoo, if I don't find it, I'll have to go buy a new one. Those things are expensive, you know. If I was an uncultured un-cool freak, I'd wrap some old rundown "bronze" pantyhose around my lame wrist and be done with it.
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