I wrote post, it was two pages long and had obscenities and a list in it. It talked about what I failed to accomplish today and contained several mentions of disorders and insecurities, all in the context of what I did accomplish today. Then Pages (Mac's word processing program) shut down unexpectedly and, because I write everything from to blog posts to emails in a separate window where I have a reliable spell check and no possibility of accidentally hitting send, my post went down with it. Lost to the ether. I suppose this could be considered a cheap lesson, a reminder that I should never work on anything, regardless of its length or value, in an untitled document... but I already knew that. And it doesn’t feel cheap. It feels like further proof that the world just wants to screw with me, that I should just bow to the most paranoid tendencies within myself, and that most work is ultimately for naught because sometimes shit just disappears for no reason.
I guess it also bears mentioning that I worked on my play today.