Bettered by a Dead Crustacean: (Humorous Essays) by Baeli Kelli Jae

Author:Baeli, Kelli Jae [Baeli, Kelli Jae]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lesbian Literati Press
Published: 2013-04-03T22:00:00+00:00

Cold Hands, Warm…Thighs

My right hand is always colder than my left hand. Now, before any of you conjure up something naughty, let me expound.

My office, (meaning the place where my computer resides) is in my basement. It’s a finished basement, unless you don’t count the windows, which the original builder saw fit to install without weather stripping…or else the glass is smaller than the frame…I’m not sure which. Either way, the basement is about 20 degrees colder than the rest of my house. Hence, the temperature differential between my left and right hand. My right hand is always up on the mouse, mousing around, while my left hand gets to snuggle in between my thighs, which I have it on good authority is at least 20 degrees WARMER than the median temperature of the room.

Since I am forced to use my computer regularly be-cause I work at home and everything I do is somehow related to the computer, (including sex, dammit), I inevitably have to deal with my right hand being cold.

Always the problem solver, I bought some of those brown cloth gloves that are used for general household chores, and put one on my right hand. I cut the finger-tips off of it (BEFORE I put it on, lest you think I mindlessly lopped off my digits-if I were going to lop off my digits, I would be mindful about it…like, I would have my woodburning tool there to cauterize the wounds, because I’d have to drive myself to the emergency room, and I’d need to steer with my left hand, and carry my fingertips in my lopped-off-digits-hand, so the surgeon could sew them back on…which they WOULD be able to do because I carried the fingertips in my right hand, which kept them icy and preserved).

Did I digress?

Where was I? Oh, the gloves.

I cut the ends of the glove-fingers off, and wore it on my right hand, so that I could have manual dexterity for pointing and rollerballing and clicking and scrolling and typing, while keeping the rest of my hand warm.

DISCLAIMER: I’m allowed to wear one glove, as I am an eccentric writer-person, and not a weird pop star who had a race-transplant and likes little boys.

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