Since crazy “vacation” summer is over, I finally get the chance to relax and write like I want to. So yesterday was my first day.

I got up and devoed and went straight into my writing. I was so proud of myself, I even downloaded a timer so I could keep track of how much time I spent writing and to stay focused. (My mind wanders)

I’m writing a novel. Chick lit. And am on page a-hundred-and-something, nearing the climax. There’s static between my two characters. They feel each other’s nearness, at the same time knowing how distant they’ve become, both wanting to close the gap but not knowing if the other feels the same. . .

Before I finished yesterday, I made sure to finish that scene to be able to move on. I tend to get stuck on tricky scenes, writing and rewriting. And we all know no novel gets done that way.

Well. The reason I’m telling you this, instead of writing right now like I’m supposed to, is because I’m venting.

Anger.

Frustration.

Wrath.

I deleted all my work from yesterday by mistake. The stupid thing said there was already a file with that name, do I want to override it? All I changed was a few words I saw and tweaked in my opening lines. I thought, sure you can override it. For reasons unknown to me, that meant deleting everything.

And I triple checked to make sure it was saved yesterday, too.

You better believe I had a tantrum. I grabbed my collar and threw my head back and groaned like I was being strangled.

I. Want. To. Cry.

My computer has hurt me.

I feel like I’m looking in a window where I JUST saw my work, yet I can’t get to it. I’m useless.

*sigh* Okay. I’ll put on a stiff upper lip and REwrite the darn thing.  .

Hurray for day two.