When I was growing up, the downtown mall in my town had the most awesome kiosk. Sadly, it didn’t last long. My allowance wasn’t enough to keep it open, but I would have loved to try. That kiosk? They sold only left-handed items. Mugs that you could pick up with your left hand and the wording or picture would face the world. T-shirts declaring left-handed pride. Rulers printed with the numbers that read right-to-left. Of course, that’s the item I proudly bought and have been having difficulty using ever since. I’m not going to toss it, I’m a proud lefty!
I’ve never tried to become right-handed and my parents never tried to force me. I can use a mouse with either hand, but keep it to the left of my keyboard out of habit. On my laptop, I have a track pad which I can navigate with either hand, but tend to click and zoom using my left hand.
The other night, I was in bed with a Sudoku puzzle. I was laying on my left side and propping up my head with my left hand, all so that I could see by the light on the nightstand. With that configuration I needed to use my right hand to write the numbers…or I’d have to flip and turn my back on the light. I figured, how hard can that be to write with my right hand? It’s only numbers after all.
I never got to find out.
I picked up my pen with my right hand and my mind went haywire. Like most Sudoku-ers, I have a strategic plan of attack. I couldn’t follow it. My eyes bounce from box-to-line-to-box but didn’t take in anything. I couldn’t establish patterns. I couldn’t even focus on what numbers were shown in the puzzle.
It was like I was having an allergic reaction to the pen being in the wrong hand.
Perhaps my mind was telling me that after my long, stressful day, I just needed to go to sleep.
Maybe I’m just a little nuts.