chronic illness, Productivity, Work tools

Laptop-typing troubles? My recommendation roundup.

 

screenshot2019-01-31at2.42.44pm
the PWR+ laptop stand.

Yesterday, my constantly-laptop-typing writer friend sent me an email – she had started to feel pain in her hands and arms and was growing alarmed that it might be the beginnings of a repetitive stress injury like the ones I had suffered. Had I ever felt her particular type of pain? Not exactly. But mine was similar enough that I felt compelled to swoop in with recommendations. After nearly two years with vaguely-diagnosable yet completely debilitating pains, I feel like something of an expert. You need a doctor? A physical therapist? An occupational therapist? An acupuncturist who takes insurance? A chiropractor? I can shuffle my stack of medical business cards like a Vegas magician: were you thinking of a massage therapist who also knows reiki? My audience volunteer gasps, YES, I do need one of those!

 

Where was I? Oh yes. So I resisted the urge to send this friend a 10,000 word email listing everything I have tried for my injuries. Instead, I will share them with you. I guess it would only be fair for me to forward her the link as well, since she inspired this post.

DISCLAIMER: I am NOT a doctor (insert testimonial about consulting your doctor…I am not legally responsible for what happens to you after reading this). I am, however, an informed consumer, so allow me to share some of my favorite tools with you. Oh, and I am not getting any commission here – these are actually the things I use.

ERGONOMICS

  • A laptop stand. Mine has three adjustable hinges and an adorable, removable mouse stand. It can be used as a standing desk, a keyboard rest for an existing monitor setup, or as a monitor stand. Plus it folds! And it weighs only 3.9 pounds!
  • An ergonomic split keyboard. I use the Microsoft Sculpt one with a detached keypad to activate a calculator on your screen. It keeps your arms parallel to  reduce strain on forearm muscles.
  • A decent wireless mouseI use the Logitech M185. I also have the Logitech wireless touchpad, which is like a larger version of the laptop trackpad. It’s good for navigating and zooming but less good for graphic work. I’m considering a vertical mouse, but haven’t made the leap yet.
  • A bean bag wrist wrest. I use the Ergo beads wrist rest to keep my wrists in perfect position for mousing.
  • An memory foam ass pad. Yes, I said ass pad. I have this chair pad. If you must sit at all, this will make it less hurty.

BRACES

  • I was slouching all over the place until I got a back brace. Fatigue can result in sloppy slouches. It is not ideal to use a brace instead of core strength, but the Shark Tank-featured BetterBack brace is really great for this.
  • Wrist splints. I wear these at night to prevent numb hands in the morning. It’s not exactly sexy, but neither is not being able to move your hands.

MUSCLE RELIEF

  • A neck heating pad. OMG. I cannot say enough about this. I got one as a gift from a coworker two years ago and have been using it every day since. I warm my neck up in the morning and again at night before doing my stretches. If you’re particularly crafty, as my mother is, you could make one from cherry pits (she actually bought a barrel of these). The one she gave me smells so good and gives off moist warmth. I overheated a burn hole it in the microwave one day, but salvaged the cherries and sewed a new one.
  • A peanut roller. What? It’s basically two lacrosse balls joined like a mini barbell. I roll it over my hands and forearms after typing for too long.
  • A foam roller. I use this every morning – it’s a packable size and less squishy then the fat pool noodle foam ones.  It offers a satisfying crack and pop as I roll my back over it

BOOK

  • Deskbound book . This one was recommended to me by my physical therapist. It’s a textbook, but written so lay people can understand it. If you’re looking for exercises to build or stretch those muscles after desk work, it is definitely worth the investment.

I hope these help! If you have any other go-to tools, send them my way!

DIY, My story, Work tools

conduit, curtains, and containers

img_3245
10 years in the making. They’re a little wrinkly, but I’ll steam them!

You DEFINITELY don’t see this in Florida! a poofy-haired tourist-lady exclaimed as I boarded the uptown C train at 23rd street. She was referring to the two ten-foot steel pipes that I had just  threaded through the feet of the bewildered passengers. That’s right! I responded. I gotta get these things home, and they won’t fit in a cab. It was almost Christmas, so people were feeling festively forgiving.

What the hell was I doing on the C train (and after transferring at 168th street, also the A train) with 20 combined feet of hollow galvanized steel conduit pipe, you might ask?

You see, for the past ten years, I have stored my hoarder-caliber inventory of craft supplies on steel industrial shelves that covered an entire wall of my apartment. The shelves are stacked with Giant Rubbermaid tubs stuffed with fabric, felt, and fleece, and smaller shoe-box bins, containing an assortment of tape, ribbon, wire, or paint (labeled accordingly, of course). I also have wooden IKEA drawers that have survived all of my moves since college, with entire compartments devoted to scissors and rulers from the giddy summer Staples trips of my teaching days. The smallest containers, nestled in a plastic hardware organizer, house bobbins, buttons, jewelry findings, and googly eyes. You need glitter? There’s a drawer for that. Glue sticks? I’ve got you covered.

My boxes and bins do serve a purpose, but they are ugly. Thus, my ongoing design dilemma: I need to keep my supplies visible enough that I remember to use them, but also hidden when I’m not. For almost a decade, I’ve been complaining that I wanted to mount a curtain rod from the ceiling to hide the mess, but despite the fact that I have curated dozens of Pinterest boards for inspiration, I couldn’t commit to do the work to make it happen. I was determined to make my clutter-curing curtain dreams a reality before the end of 2018. It was my Old Year’s resolution.

Determined, I did my research, learning about conduit electrical pipe and iron flanges (flanges—what an awesome word!) and screw-set mounts and elbow joints that would make the project work. The supplies cost less than $75, because we already had the hand-me-down curtains (Thanks, Mom. Yes, I know they came from Pottery Barn. Yes, I know they were expensive!). My husband agreed: we would complete the project during the otherwise lazy week between Christmas and New Year’s.

Delirious from a two-day sinus infection but determined to complete the project, I went to Home Depot to pick up my materials. That was straightforward enough, but things got tricky the moment I tried to leave. I was buying two 10-foot steel pipes, which I planned to transport by myself from 23rd Street back to 204th Street. On the subway.

I somehow managed to get my cargo home without incident, and we hung the curtains without hurting ourselves or each other. Now I can make messy art and hide it when I need to do a video call for work. It’s a win-win for me, and I gave a poofy-haired lady a good story to take back to Florida.

Productivity, Support System, Work tools

How to be your story’s protagonist

levelupImagine creating a secret identity for yourself, and now you are strong and brave and unafraid. You are resourceful, ready to vanquish enemies. You are part of a worldwide tribe that energizes and supports you. You are doing things you never thought possible and feel exhilarated and challenged. You are mastering—not enduring—life!  Sounds pretty good, right?

A few weeks ago, I was browsing the shelves at the public library and found Steve Kamb’s 2016 book Level Up your Life. The subtitle reads: How to Unlock Adventure and Happiness by Becoming the Hero of your Own Story.  A book combining narrative and agency to help people reach their goals? He has my attention.

The cover depicts a comic book-style illustration of a man ripping off his business shirt and tie to reveal his (six-pack abs and his) superhero costume. Our hero is answering a call to action; someone, somewhere, is in distress. Kamb does not need to rescue us readers, however. He offers an adaptable blueprint so that we can save ourselves. With a little imagination and discipline, even the humblest of nerdy office drones can take charge of her life, break free from being ordinary, and join this Rebellion. And she can have a lot of fun while doing so.

Kamb, the founder of nerdfitness.com, is a self-proclaimed formerly “risk-averse, picky eating introvert who felt more at home in front of a computer than in public.” He was happy enough in his post-college job, but was vaguely dissatisfied. After moving cross-country for a more interesting, but lower-paying job, he realized that he was still wasting his evenings and weekends drinking and playing video games to numb himself from his uninspiring life. He wanted a challenge, so he began with getting fit.

Kamb recontextualized his fitness quest as a game: he developed an origin story, an alter ego identity, and a series of increasingly more difficult challenges (in video games, this is known as leveling up). Once he began to see actual results from his workouts, he decided to help other nerds do the same by using game theory. He put his own video games aside, and for the next 18 months, devoted that same energy to building an online community. Then, he applied his method to other areas of his life. He knew he was onto something.

What I love about this book is that it is not just one guy bragging about how cool his life is now, how he is traveled to blah blah countries and done blah blah cool things. He makes leveling up accessible, encouraging his readers to start small while challenging them to play on increasingly difficult levels. Because he is a nerd, Kamb sprinkles references to video games and fantasy and science fiction characters throughout the book. He also builds his hero’s journey on the work done by Joseph Campbell and Christopher Vogler. Each step has its own chapter.

The main character is somebody of normal existence who goes through a journey that fundamentally changes him or her as a character. This character learns from a mentor, skeptically accepts the call to leave a comfortable existence, faces trials and tribulations, makes allies and enemies, outsmart or wins over the guardians of the threshold, struggles to survive/succeed, transforms, and ultimately returns home with altered/improved outlook on life.

My biggest takeaway from this book is the cautionary tale of the South Park Underpants Gnomes. In the middle of the night, these little elves run around the fictional cartoon town, stealing people’s underpants. When asked why they are doing this, one replies, “Collecting underpants is just Phase 1!” When asked about Phase 2, the gnomes reply with, “Phase 3 is profit!” The gnomes never find out what Phase 2 is. Kamb’s message to his readers: stop mindlessly collecting underpants, or don’t consume yourself with busy work that doesn’t move you toward your goal. You have to  take action in Phase 2, or you will just have a shit-ton of underpants and no profit.

gnomes
Underpants Gnomes from South Park

This idea really hit home for me as I think back to my summer research project. In the beginning, I was obsessed with collecting all available information on my topic. I became a hoarder of articles and blog posts and books, and wasted hours organizing them into an indexed binder. I knew my goal was to write a paper, so why was I wasting my time? At one point, my advisor had to cut me off. She said, “That’s it! No new sources!”

gnome plan
You gotta have a Phase 2.

Damnit,  I thought.  Now I am going to have to do some real work.

Even if you don’t pick up the book, I hope you have learned this from Kamb, from the makers of South Park, and from me: Don’t be an Underpants Gnome.

Uncategorized, Work tools

In Praise of Dotted Pages

You might say that I have a bit of a problem. My friends would say it’s more like an addiction. I am constantly on the search for the ultimate notebook, planner, or organization system. When it comes to notebooks for my writing and drawings, I’m not terribly faithful, and I have been known to abandon many an otherwise perfectly useful system after a delirious bender at the art supply store (RIP, Artist & Craftsman Supply Harlem!).

I’ve tried them all: hard-backed, black-covered sketchbooks with thick blank white pages (pros: you can draw; cons: lack of lines or grid makes it difficult for writing), more modern iterations of composition notebooks (pros: nostalgia factor; cons: cheaply made and you can’t rip out pages without destroying the whole thing), and of course, the beloved Moleskine (pros: elastic keeps the notebook closed, high quality paper, convenient back pocket; cons: way too expensive). So when I found Muji, I was in notebook heaven.

Screen Shot 2018-09-25 at 3.16.50 PM.png
photo credit: @mujiusa

For the uninitiated, Muji is kind of like a Japanese IKEA, but for office, beauty, and household supplies, clothing, and accessories. Their aesthetic is very minimalist—most items are in neutral tones of gray, beige, and white. Their office supply section is my favorite. You can choose between .25 and .38mm pens in a rainbow of colors, should you be so discerning. And whenever I go there, the pen display is swarming with nerds like me test-scribbling on newsprint scrap paper pads.

The hidden gem of the Muji stationery department is the A5 Dotted Notebook. It retails for a mere four dollars, and instead of rigidly oppressive lines or anal-retentive grids, it has subtle gray dots, suggesting a tiny bit of structure without bombarding you with it. I have been using this notebook—or rather, a series of them—for the past three years.

muji love

Until this September. I finished my most recent notebook and headed to their Times Square store, only to find that they were out of stock. I figured, OK, it’s back-to-school time; they will order more. I tried the Fifth Avenue flagship store. Same story. That weekend, I called the Flatiron store to avoid having to make an extra trip, and was told that they had them in stock. When I got there, they somehow didn’t. I spoke with Jasmine, the kind woman at the register who said they might be planning to discontinue them.

I was frantic. Was there anywhere else where they had them? Luckily, the Williamsburg, Brooklyn store did. Jasmine, my new best friend, demanded that the guy in Brooklyn check the floor to make sure. He didn’t find any. Undeterred, she said check the basement, and he did. They had 50.

I am embarrassed to say that I took a 70 minute train trip from upper Manhattan to Brooklyn in order to buy 10 of these notebooks (and more embarrassed to say I thought about buying all 50). As clutched my shopping bag on the train, I thought about how tenacious I can be about seemingly inconsequential things. You might call me a perfectionist.

For now, I will stay faithful to my dotted pages— balancing myself delicately between the constraints of lines and the chaos of the blank page.

But you don’t want to be around me if I have to detox.