I came thisclose to losing it, and all of my writing, yesterday. My computer has been acting up so I took it in to get a new hard-drive yesterday. I back-up every two days so I imagined everything I had was backed up. After they gave me a new hard-drive I came home and attempted to access a couple of poems. They were nowhere. I was mildly concerned. I then decided to look for some pictures. Nothing. I assumed my files we somewhere on my external drive and would find them later.
B came over to go for a walk and apparently, I have a certain look right before I lose my sh*t and that look was on my face. He strongly suggested we cancel the walk and he drove me back to Apple with my computer to see if they could figure it out. It turns out my back-up had failed and nothing was saved. They still had my old hard-drive and put it back in my computer. Had I waited another hour the store would have closed and they would sent my old hard-drive to be destroyed this morning. Thank the stars for that crazy look on my face or I would probably still be screaming. Thank B for knowing what I look like right before I come apart at the seams.
I tried to be zen yesterday when I thought all of my work was gone but know I would have lost it had I lost all of my writing and photographs, etc. I can't imagine the grief I would have felt. I not only have all of my poetry, fictions, essays and novel on this machine but I have years of journal entries I wrote. So much of me is in my writing. It would have been an emotional amputation.
I'm off to Palm Springs to run some errands for my dad. I've heard Palm Springs has excellent thrift store shopping because a lot of the population of retired folk pass (a numbers game, I"m not trying to be ageist), and leave their belongings to Goodwill and such. I may have to go on a little vintage hunt after my errand's are done. . .
Adding to my pile of things I'm reading: Chuck Palahniuk's Stranger Than Fiction: True Stories and dig it so far. How many ways are there to write an essay? A lot.