What to do when the s#%@ hits the fan

It’s 6:27am and I’ve just sat down to take a quick look over my ebook draft that I wrote yesterday. 7253 words in five hours.

And my software won’t open the file. It will open other files. Just not this one.

This has never happened before with my software, so I won’t mention which one it is, as it’s been outstanding up to this point and I don’t want to sully their rep.

Anyway, back to the file. I don’t have another copy. Because of the reasons in the previous sentence.

I am trying to decide if I should feel sick, or angry, or something else. Weirdly, I don’t seem to feel anything but a bit of frustration.This is unusual for me.

Shouldn’t I feel shattered? What if I have lost my whole ebook and they can’t recover it? I saved the file a number of times and definitely saved it before going to bed last night, so the thought that they really couldn’t restore the file is a bit far fetched.

I watch crime shows. They can recover the file. I’ll just Goran to open it for me.

Yep, no. Nothing. I don’t feel anything. It’s 6:32am.

Hm, it being Sunday and all, I had planned to write something of a deeper nature to share, you know, because it’s the ‘spiritual’ day of the week, and here I am sharing about a lost file with 7253 words in it that I poured out of my being yesterday.

But isn’t God in all things? Even in this moment, at 6:33am, with me typing away about my lost file? I suspect that yes, he is. I suspect that he knew all along that this would happen.

So what do we normally do then, when the s#%@ hits the fan like this? I know what I normally do, and it ain’t pretty.  I go into sailor mode. Seriously. I have a short fuse when it comes to things I can’t control. I’ll blame it on the crime shows.

So why am I not feeling upset? It’s 6:35am. I should be beside myself with anxiety. At least, that’s been the default. But I’ve tried the program about five times; switched it off, closed all the other (3) programs running and bar switching the desktop off, have tried all the things I know to bring the file back. I’ve sent off the report and now I just have to wait.

I suppose what I am working through right now, at 6:37am, is that I have actually done all that I know how to do in this situation. Have I really lost my words? No. They’re still inside me. It will be an absolute bugger to have to try and write it all again. That first flush of revelation is always the sweetest and nothing matches its flow.

But I can do it, if need be. I still have the use of my arms and my mind. I still have everything I need to start again.

In the past, I would have given up. I hate the idea of having to rewrite 7253 words. I hate redoing stuff. Pretty much everything I write (with the exception of my novel and poetry) is first draft stuff. I say what I want to say and I leave it at that. I like my words. I’m okay with them being a little imperfect.

So what have I learned today? Anything ‘spiritual’? Well, maybe not spiritual, but certainly important. You know that phrase, ‘there’s no point crying over spilt milk’? Yep. That’s the one. There’s no point crying over this. If it was my Reconciled novel, then I might be a little more stressed. That’s now over 30,000 words and fiction, which I find much harder to reproduce. But I still wouldn’t give up.

People lose their homes, their photos, clothes and EVERYTHING that matters to them when their house burns to the ground.

I am just having trouble opening a file. It’s not even officially impossible yet. There’s still hope that it can be recovered. So really, I haven’t lost much at all.

It’s 6:43am and time to move on. If I have genuinely lost my 7253 words, then so be it. I am not going to faff about whining over it and will just have to get my big girl pants back on and crank out another version. That I save into a different type of file. And I save onto a USB. And I print out.

That should do it.

So what do we do when the s#%@ hits the fan? Nothing, apparently. We can waste our energy on getting upset, riled up and overwhelmed, or we can wait patiently for a solution to reveal itself.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel okay with waiting.

Be a blessing,




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