I had plans for a fantastic blog entry this week. I'd just returned from the beach and possessed the kind of energy that can keep my fingers tapping enough for three people at once.
Yes, but. My laptop completely died today. And not even my handy husband with his screwdrivers and admirable know-how can resurrect it or the files saved on it. So that short short story I'd polished to perfection? Toast. My spreadsheets tracking the various things I track? Gone. The brainstorming of blog ideas I'd saved? Blip! That great entry about a few of my favorite blogs, the one I was going to post today? Bye-bye.
But it was one of those days for me, the kind where everything I touch crumbles. Some lady beeped her horn five times at me because I wasn't psychic and couldn't tell that the red light would turn to a green turn arrow. A lady begging for money screamed at me, freaking out my kids. I called my grandma; she hung up in tears. The computer seems to be the most expensive of the various aspects of my day that crashed.
But can't circumstances always be worse? Yes, indeed. That laptop lasted me five wonderful years of very heavy usage. It was toted to nearly 120 council meetings (some of which lasted four hours), survived countless rewrites of my first novel, Storm Surge, and even endured the completion of the first few drafts of my second novel. Looking at the sunny side, I practically memorized the short story I lost. I can recreate spreadsheets. I remember my favorite blogs and can type them up into a nifty blog entry later. And I'm picking up a (faster, better endowed, prettier) replacement laptop tomorrow (which is exciting, though the built-in web cam frightens me). And tomorrow is a new day.