Poor Rene. I frantically IM'd her last night because I'd lost a file.
And, you guessed it, that file was everything I'd written the previous evening. I had saved it, but it saved in a temporary internet file.
I panicked. I searched. I did another search. I tried everything I could think of.
And it's GONE.
The feeling of having your words - and they were GOOD words, darn it - lost forever to cyberspace is...is...well, let's just say I wanted to put my head in a vice clamp and keep on twisting it until the pain went away.
At any rate, I'm going to ask our tech guy here at work if there is any possible way that it's still floating around somewhere on my computer. If not, that's okay. I'm at peace with it now. Last night, torn between dragging my very tired behind to the computer and rewriting it and just falling asleep, I opted to take notes on everything that I could remember from the scene. It was an important scene, which is why I was so devestated. Hubby watched me frantically scribble away and I think was in a bit of awe - and not the good kind. He definitely saw the writer in me last night and I think he couldn't quite understand the creative process. But he respected it and let me scribble away.
Anyway, I'm over it. I think. As Rene said, "just write those pages better."
Sounds like a plan.
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