Since I was early for my appointment with the eye doctor this morning, I decided to take another crack at sending a text message from my cell phone, my third one in a week.
It took me a while to remember how to send a message and then another while to figure out how to send it to my intended recipient. Once I got that straightened out, I composed a bare-bones message ("Coming today at 4.30?"), resisting the use of those irritating word-letters (as in, "r u coming today").
It went slowly. I had to use my right index finger to punch most of the keys because the injury to my thumb prevents me from honing my thumb-typing skills. I finally gave up looking for the colon, if there is one, on the tiny keypad and put a period in 4.30.
Finally I finished it and sent it off, successfully. I was so proud. But I was beginning to worry that the other people in the waiting room would think I was one of those nerdy techno-dorks who spend every moment texting and tweeting and playing with phone apps, so I put the phone back into my pocket.
When I looked up, I saw that all four of the other people sitting there in the waiting room were intently focused on the cell phones in their hands, diligently thumbing the buttons and keys.
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