Keeping Time

My mind often turns toward the very mundane. It's frustrating that there are so many things that a person must keep to themselves not because it's obscene or necessarily secret, but because no one is interested in hearing about it. These things are just too small to be shared. You could say them to the people closest to you in the most idle of moments, I guess. There are a lot of things like this for me, and they are chronicled here.

Something I do sometimes is snap my fingers. I snap along with music, or without. If it's with music, there's a beat to snap with. I come and go on that. Sometimes I'm at least thinking of a song, and I can keep to the beat on that. Sometimes I'm snapping to nothing at all, in which case I wind up snapping to the pace of my footsteps. Other stuff can throw me off and I wind up going to something else for a while.

I snap pretty hard. Sometimes there's some severe emotion put into it. I guess aggressive snapping is better than putting my fist through a wall, not that I'd have the ability to do that. I'm sure my hand would break and not make much of a mark. In any event, I snap hard. I snap for long periods of time as well, and a consequence of those two things is blisters. I snap until a blister happens, which I guess is gross. It's something I actually strive towards, perversely enough. 

When it gets to that point, I try snapping with my other hand, which is hard. It's funny how poorly the non-dominant hand does even fairly simple things like snapping. It's easy to understand how you can't just write with that hand, but snapping seems easy enough. I just cannot do it properly with my left hand, although I think I have gotten a touch better. It comes and goes, but I am resolved to get it someday. There'll be a blister on that left thumb yet.