There’s A Typo In Your Teeth (Day #22)

You’ve noticed. You’ve noticed, but you haven’t said anything. And now it’s awkward.

It’s awkward because you’ve noticed and you haven’t said anything. So now you’re embarrassed for me, the way you’re embarrassed for the woman who doesn’t know she has spinach in her teeth. Someone should tell her! you think to yourself. Why hasn’t anyone told her?

You want to say something, but you’re not sure it’s your place to say something. After all, we don’t know each other that well. And you certainly don’t want to make it more awkward than it already is.

So I’ll say it. I’ll put it out there, so you’ll know that I know, and it can stop being awkward between us.

There’s a typo in my blog.

Inevitably. Always. A word is misspelled or omitted or blatantly misused.

It’s not that I don’t proof my posts. I do. I read them and re-read them until I’m satisfied that they’re typo-free, and then I publish them. And then I read them again.

Only then, after I’ve released my words to the world, do I see the double but, the missing and, the your that should be a you’re. Taunting me. Mocking me. Making me cringe.

The great irony is that I have a very low tolerance for typos generally. I don’t think that typos “humanize” content. I don’t believe that typos are unavoidable in the fast-paced, techonology-ridden iAge. I think typos are like acne. Eye-catching. Distracting. Embarrassing for all involved.

Unfortunately, there’s not a lot I can do about it. Sure, I could quadruple check my posts, read them aloud to make sure I’ve caught every mistake. But doing that requires time, and time is a precious commodity here in Life with a Newborn, and I’ve got a (typo-ridden) novel to write. Besides, I suspect that I could read my posts forty times before publishing them and still overlook at least one glaring, obvious, in-your-face mistake. Which probably says a lot about my self concept, but we’ll save that for another post.

For now, I simply want to acknowledge what we all know is true. Just so it’s out there. Just so we all know that we all know.

My name is Lauren, and I’m a serial mistypist.

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