Existential Writer's Crisis --- AVERTED!!!

In order to work on my writing while the kids go to Animanga Club, I keep my writing files on little USB flash drives. And usually, I back them up on my desktop at home.

Usually. When I remember, that is.

Haven't been doing that so faithfully lately, though, and I nearly paid for it. While getting ready to leave for the library today, I did my usual check of the stuff in the laptop bag, taking some stuff out, adding some stuff in... the usual. I also checked to make sure the USB's I'd be using were in their place and... one was missing.

At first, I wasn't too worried. After all, I was pretty sure I'd taken it out to make some notes on the story I'd been working on so... it was probably on my desk. Except... it wasn't. Nor was it in my purse, or on the counter, or in my pockets, or in the car, or in any of the innumerable places it could be. The kids hadn't seen it, the Husbandly One hadn't moved it... and all I could think was, "Oh... crap, I lost it at the library!!!"

My heart sank. I hadn't had a chance to back it up. I'd gotten sidetracked by one of my little distractions and forgotten about it, and then gone to the library and... that meant I didn't have anything current on the story at home, and I didn't have enough of it in my head to reconstruct it, even though I did have some of my notes...

Yeah, it was pretty devastating. And I was trying not to lose it, trying to stay focused on, "Okay, gotta get the kids to the library, and I can ask if they found a USB key... or if someone turned one in...so..."

And I tried very hard not to imagine taking my horrible, sad, pathetic excuse of a novel to a publisher and selling it and making a smashing success of it, and me with no proof it wasn't MINE... except for two notebooks and three files worth of notes and work on it.

Yes, I can be an overdramatic tit, what's your point?

The kids did their best to cheer me up, confident I had just misplaced it, and I tried my best to be philosophical about it, since weeping, wailing, tearing one's clothes, and beating one's breast is sort of hazardous while driving, not to mention upsetting to the children. Plus the whole wearing sack cloth and ashes just plain embarrasses the hell out of them, and while I don't mind embarrassing my kids, I tend to like to do it to a purpose, you know?

So, when we got to the library, the kids turned in their books and rushed to the room where their club meeting was at, barely remembering to wave at me and look properly sympathetic (in fact, they failed horribly at the looking sympathetic part) as they abandoned left me. I was left to walk up to the help desk and ask if anyone had turned in a black usb flash drive.

The librarian found one that was very much like mine BUT... it had initials etched into it that weren't mine. She encouraged me to go ahead and look at it and check, just in case. So, I found a table with a handy plug and pulled out my laptop. Noticing that someone (stares accusingly at the Impossible Son) left crumbs on the keyboard, I dug into the pocket where I keep a microfiber cloth and out of the black fabric tumbled... my missing USB key!!!

*dance of joy, dance of joy*

Yes, yes, I was very happy and just managed not to do a whooping victory jig. While amusing, I am sure it would have been frowned on. After all, I am in the library!

Therefore, there will be no wailing, weeping, and beating of chests, nor shall there be sack cloth and ashes, nor yet the inconsolable Jo dripping tears everywhere as she contemplates the ruin of her life while the Husbandly One plies her with enough chocolate to put an entire platoon of female Marines into comas...

I did mention the overdramatic thing, right?

So, crisis averted, and all is well in Jo-Land. Yay! Now... if I can just finish the damn thing, right? Right.

So,

How I love the rainy nights...

Lying on a couch on the back porch, my head on the Husbandly One's chest, his arms around me as I listen to the sound of his heart under my ear while warm rain patters on the leaves and the grass around us and lightning flickers through the clouds... what could be better?

Nights like this are why I am a very happy woman.

Let's Do the Time Warp...

My personal sense of time has become somewhat distorted of late. I've always had a clock in my head, maybe not letting me know what precise time it was, but always within about fifteen minutes, plus or minus about five. You could say I've always known, in a general sense, when I am.

But over the last year, that sense has been undependable, until I have a sudden jangling realization of, "OMIGOD, WE'RE LATE!!!" So... less like having a clock in my head and more like an unexpected, very annoying alarm. And it's driving me nuts. I may have to actually start wearing a watch again.

Of course, I know who to blame. *glares at husband*

See, the Husbandly One has set the clock in our bedroom to be fifteen minutes fast (more or less) so he won't be late to work. I get that, and I support it. Unfortunately, he moved the clock in the living room that I could see easily from the sink just by turning around to check it. It's now only visible from the front door. And it's five minutes fast.

On the other hand, the digital clock in the van was set seven minutes fast. And the clock in the Impertinent Daughter's room is four minutes slow, and the Impossible Son's clock is... just wrong.

Is it any wonder the clock in my head is totally confused and I never know what time it is? And let me tell you, Daylight Savings Time, cursed be its name, doesn't help.

Thank goodness for the internet and the ability to check the time, or I'd be hopelessly lost!!

Because what you say, and what I hear are two different things sometimes...

Last night, after a very satisfying fireworks show at the city park, the Husbandly One was trying to reset his brain into work mode. The kids, most especially the Impossible Son, were still sort of ramped up and not ready for bed, but THO certainly was!

I was noodling around on the computer, and when he came in, I could have sworn he said, "Gotta go to bed early, I got STORKS!!" Then he promptly left while my mouth fell open and my brain sort of flailed around in my head and I went, "Wait...WHAT???"

WTF, storks???

And I promptly lost it in a burst of hysterical laughter.

By the time he returned, I had calmed down somewhat, and I said, "You know, honey, I'm really sorry to hear you have storks. Sounds kind of painful, and really, instead of going to bed, I think you should go to the hospital!"

I must not have been as calm as I thought I was, because I had to repeat that a few times before he understood me. And then he stared at me and said, "What the hell are you talking about??" before he started laughing and said, "Oh, wait... that's what it sounded like I said, isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah!" I said, wheezing at this point.

"Uh, well... what I said was gotta go to bed early, I gots to work, you know."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out," I said, shaking my head. "The hearing glitch strikes again."

He shook his head, laughing, and went to go fuss at the Impossible Son to turn the TV off and get ready for bed.