My Stupid Morning

My hard drive crashed. Second one this year. Replaced it and purchased Backblaze back-up services somewhere in the ether.

I devoted an hour this morning to following instructions on how to transfer “saved” photos into my computer’s photo program. Failure.

I use Scrivener for writing. The files are on the computer, but they are not in Scrivener. I have to dig out each one and then open it. THEN it is attached to the program.

There is something not right with back-up programs. A file drawer for papers and a box for photos has great appeal just now.

This morning I told a friend that I’d rather clean the stove for an hour than go through this process. At least the hour would conclude with visible results.

I should add that even having a terrible draft, which seems like a waste of time, is infinitely better than no draft, which is the equivalent of my stupid morning.

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About Carolyn

I live in Washington, D.C., write, teach, try to eat the requisite fruits and veggies daily, and avoid caffeine after 2 pm. I wonder about things a lot -- like why "pretty" means "pretty" and "not so much" and if I can ever perfect the single-portion, no-knead, daily baguette and how many people realize that Beau Brummel had a lot to do with our desire to bathe daily -- those of us who do in fact "take the daily."
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