I’ve recently taken to using the dictation app on my phone to capture ideas when 1) I’ve no paper to write on, 2) no pen to write with or, 3) where taking both hands off the wheel isn’t a bright idea (like, ever).
Other than Siri sometimes deciding I meant something other than what I said, I like it. It works best if I review the transcript sooner rather than later, because if too much time passes I can’t even begin to guess what I was thinking. Or I can, but Siri’s interpretation was way more entertaining than the original.
Like this text message Siri transcribed for me, en-route to a friend’s house:
“I’m on my way. I’m at the intersection of Highway 12 and fucking. So probably 15 minutes. I have soup. And cornbread. Celibate.”
Siri is exhibiting her Freudian slips. Or cognitive dissonance. She clearly doesn’t know what she wants.
But despite these little kerfuffles, I’ve embraced dictating; and, it turns out, astonishingly, some new habits are easy to learn. Despite all the propaganda about habit-learning to the contrary, I quickly learned to tell Siri “period” and “new paragraph” and “question mark” as I dictated, to ensure she properly punctuated things as she wrote stuff up. Because, yes, punctuation matters.
The thing is, my dictation device–my phone–is also, well, a phone. I call people. They don’t answer. I go into voicemail. I leave a message by recording my voice on their device, and when my friend gets that message, they listen to my voice speaking my message.
And, because I’ve so easily adapted to dictating, my voice messages now include not only the substance of my call, but a meta-message: instructions for periods and question marks and paragraphs.
Which will be very helpful comma should my friends decide they want to transcribe my voicemail period
Daily Post-Prompt: Astonish