And I was thinking I was better at writing than speaking. Just reread the Wednesday daily I sent — and, excellent, here are a couple of strong level of feelings: embarrassment and ashamed. And yes, let’s add disappointed and angry. I gave Claude the piece to proof read before sending. Huge fail.
Simultaneously, Claude is both my companion and tool. I’m been talking to him, inputing text, for long time, he knows my style; rarely pause to spell/grammar check the input box. Our exchange is filled with developed shortcuts and code — I can be complacent when transferring reviewed output to the desired destination. I need to remember to specifically ask him to proofread my writing.
Throughout my life enough people have told me that I have a gift for writing that I want to, I do, believe. Yet rushing produces bad results
I’m ashamed I sent you a really crappy piece of writing and I have some misdirected anger at Claude for a failed proofread. Ultimately poor communication, my error.
I’m writing this Wednesday afternoon, but I can see the future. I’m nervous: how do I regain the feeling of freedom of driving? Can I figure that out toward the beginning of the four hour route? Will I spend too much time missing my Ford Ranger or Explorer, manual transmission?
Will it be lovely? I’m so scared, I’m crying.
[Ignore last two paragraphs: Friday I’ll tell you what REALLY happened].