I don't know how many times over the past year I complained about having to practice my steno, but I know it had to have been a lot. I didn't like practicing. Okay, I plain old hated it. In fact, I hate having to practice anything. But that's beside the point. As much as I hated practicing, I absolutely LOVED steno. I still do, and I can't shake it. I know, dorky, nerdy, weird, whatever you want to call it, but it simply fascinated and excited me. The idea of writing not only single words but entire phrases in just one keystroke made me giddy!
"I can't recall" = KWRARL
"I don't remember" = KWRORM
"Did you go" = STKUG
"Do you want" = TKAOUPT
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury" = HRAEURPBLG
One stroke can say so much.
Last weekend, I blew off the dust that had been steadily settling onto my stenograph over the month or so since I had sat down in front of it, and I finally put it away. I couldn't bring myself to do it any sooner. It genuinely hurt me, almost like I was putting down a long-loved pet. No, I didn't cry, but I felt nostalgic and, yes, a little empty even. It was a very sad day for me, and I guess I'm still in mourning for my loss.
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