Well, here I had two hours of work done on a new entry, all about love and friendship and distance. It was about 20 or 30 minutes from done, I needed to edit (I write first drafts for these things all stream-of-consciousness and then try to edit into coherence later) and spell check it, was all.
And then I went out to do some shopping for the massive birthday party I’m throwing for my six-year-old. We like to do kid’s parties that adults will stay at, so my shopping included purchase of large volumes of tequila and beer, and a giant cake that needs it’s own zip code.
And then I get back, and go to check my email in hopes that some beautiful woman has replied and said, yes, I will be yours, and I find that my laptop is stone dead.
The one time I don’t store a copy of a draft entry on the server, the ONE TIME.
(shakes fist at an uncaring universe)
Sure, it’s still on the disk and I can almost certainly get it back. But by that time, in all likelihood, inspiration to finish it will be gone.
Grumble. I should go back to using a quill pen and fine parchment. That can’t crash. On the other hand, I would ever be able to read what I wrote, so I dunno.
So I shall give up and go make margaritas – rocks, with salt, and very strong. And who knows, I might still get that email. I might get it more than once.
You know I will be yours, Karl.