Lately-well, more than lately, I’ve come to see myself afflicted with a certain malaise. The type of ilness that can only be described as infiltrating, and sneaky. It stated showing up a few years ago and, of course, I thought it was an only temporary thing but, in an almost spiteful reaction, I began to see it more and, more frequently. I call it ‘Monomisspellagia’, the constant misspelling of a particular word.
Seriously, this has been the bane of my writing life for a long many years, now! It’s crazy that this keeps happening to me-and the word that I’m misspelling is so ridiculous as to be an embarrassment to the english writing system everywhere!
The word in question is: the.
I know, right??!!
For whatever reason I keep spelling it ‘teh’.
How could such a simple word stump me in my writing-Every. Time?!
Well, I’ve come up with a few theories.
First, I think that there is a Gremlin in my computer.
You know the ones that I’m talking about, they used to hide in the wings of planes and chew on all the wiring inside eventually causing the plane to crash to the ground like some fiery asteroid seeking to rejoin it’s homeland.
They do, exist, people, and I think that one of them is hiding in my computer. If not chewing away at all the lettering I place on the screen then, it’s definitely rearranging them while I’m not looking!
Second, my age.
I’m at a point in my life where I can’t even hide it anymore: I’ve gotten older over the last few years, and maybe, this is just a way for my brain cells to tell me to pay closer attention to what’s going on around me, to remind me that if I don’t I will be missing a few things, like correct spelling.
…I wonder if grammar is next…?
Third, I write way to fast.
This is probably the real culprit but, seriously, when I’m in the groove, finally getting a handle on the thread that had been escaping me for the longest time, I tend to write incredibly fast, I mean, like near lightening fast, speeds akin to a seasoned typist at any big, New York City ad agency. Sometimes, I can’t even see what my own fingers are doing across my keyboard, like they have a mind or a plan all their own. Sometimes, I have to stare down at them in the hopes that they come into focus long enough for me to actually recognize that they are, indeed, still, my own digits.
To me, at that time, the thought of actually slowing dow long enough to correctly spell any word is more detrimental to my writing life than anything else that I could do.
So, what is to be my solution?
For now: nothing.
I figure that if this is the worst thing that can bother me during my writing then I can suffer through it.
…But, the minute this illness spreads over to more and than one word-I’m calling the CDC and the guys in those funny HAZ-MAT suits!
I’d like mine in a pumpkin orange, if you don’t mind.