My Macbook and my iPad don’t know me anymore. They won’t let me tap my finger on the special spot anymore. I attempt to interact with them like I used to, but they are dead. What did I do to upset them? I moved.

It wasn’t that they liked our old house so much. And, it wasn’t them missing their friends. It is the pointer finger on my right hand. It has gone on vacation. It didn’t ask permission. I sent it away during the past week. It won’t return as quickly as I would like it to come back. Touching that “spot” is much easier than typing the password. Okay, I am getting whiney.

I have handled so many boxes over the past few weeks. The colder and dryer the weather, the more rapidly the oils were sucked out of my skin. When I wasn’t wearing gloves (which was often), they nearly poured out. It was not only filling the garage with packed boxes. It was hauling those same boxes to their new assumed location in the new house. And, since they were mislabeled, the boxes were moved 2 or 3 times before they were allowed to have their contents removed.

The hand creme that might provide a cure is buried in one of the boxes I can’t find. A travel tube of creme picked up at Walmart is beginning the fingerprint healing for now. I am hoping the gloves, warmer temps, and the ending of the unpacking phase will allow the memories of my electronic devices to return.

With the moving day now a week in the past, the fingerprint has about a 50/50 chance of sparing me the indignity of password typing. If lucky, it will be nearly 100% by the weekend. Yes, I am entertained easily!