Operation ILYMT
Yesterday I had the house to myself for a couple of hours. My kind of "pause!" I spent the time reading the daily love notes my daughter and I had exchanged in 2015. Yup, we committed to writing everyday and with the minor exception of a few days here or there, we accomplished our goal. It took me almost an hour to read them all. It was the perfect way to end the year.
After reading, I decided to write about the project, which I named Operation I Love You More Than ... (ILYMT). For the next hour, I wrote. Sometimes writing is a chore. Sometimes when the words flow almost without thinking, writing is easy peesy. That's how it was for me yesterday. I was very pleased with the way the whole post read and looked, so I pushed the publish button.
Let me re-phrase that. I pushed what I thought was the publish button. Then I went about closing out a bunch of windows that I no longer needed. This included a partial post of said article. Click went the delete button. I didn't need that version, right? I had just published a completed version.
Wrong. When I went to view the page, it was blank. Nada. Zilch. Nothing. I furiously checked everywhere I thought it could be. I didn't dare conceive that I had deleted an almost perfect post. Alas, it's true. It's gone. Perhaps one of those forensic computer analysts that you see on crime shows could look through my hard drive (and don't think that I didn't try to figure out how to call one) and dig it out of whatever binary box it is hiding in. We all know that's not going to happen.
So it is with a heavy heart that I admit that post no longer exists. I have fumed, cried, stomped my feet, and yelled at the post office lady for something really stupid that was out of her control which had nothing to do with my blog but irked an already irked ME. Sweetie did his best to comfort inconsolable ME. Buddy instinctively knew to stay out of my way.
I can't say for sure if I'll ever re-write that particular post. Maybe I'll figure out a way to capture the essence of it some other time. I just wanted to explain why this blank post was up for 24 hours. Now you know. I guess if I'm going to screw up, it's good to do it on the last day of the year and keep the slate clean for the new year.
Frustratingly yours,
Merry ME
After reading, I decided to write about the project, which I named Operation I Love You More Than ... (ILYMT). For the next hour, I wrote. Sometimes writing is a chore. Sometimes when the words flow almost without thinking, writing is easy peesy. That's how it was for me yesterday. I was very pleased with the way the whole post read and looked, so I pushed the publish button.
Let me re-phrase that. I pushed what I thought was the publish button. Then I went about closing out a bunch of windows that I no longer needed. This included a partial post of said article. Click went the delete button. I didn't need that version, right? I had just published a completed version.
Wrong. When I went to view the page, it was blank. Nada. Zilch. Nothing. I furiously checked everywhere I thought it could be. I didn't dare conceive that I had deleted an almost perfect post. Alas, it's true. It's gone. Perhaps one of those forensic computer analysts that you see on crime shows could look through my hard drive (and don't think that I didn't try to figure out how to call one) and dig it out of whatever binary box it is hiding in. We all know that's not going to happen.
So it is with a heavy heart that I admit that post no longer exists. I have fumed, cried, stomped my feet, and yelled at the post office lady for something really stupid that was out of her control which had nothing to do with my blog but irked an already irked ME. Sweetie did his best to comfort inconsolable ME. Buddy instinctively knew to stay out of my way.
I can't say for sure if I'll ever re-write that particular post. Maybe I'll figure out a way to capture the essence of it some other time. I just wanted to explain why this blank post was up for 24 hours. Now you know. I guess if I'm going to screw up, it's good to do it on the last day of the year and keep the slate clean for the new year.
Frustratingly yours,
Merry ME
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