Signs you're too tired to write
Bottle of hard cider, check. Boy in bed, check. Earbuds playing slightly creepy classical music, check.
Distracted by internet. So what else is new. I turn on Freedom for Mac and instruct it to shut off my internet for a while.
Freedom reminds me that I'm still in my trial period for this program, which leads to twenty minutes of searching my receipts file because I'm quite sure I paid for it, quite sure indeed, and there's no receipt so maybe I'm just dumb. Fine, turn off my internet, Freedom.
Then I go to find the cemetery story file.
It's not there.
Oh God. That was a good story I had started. It was 1200 words of writing, and that's not much if you're, say, Bryan Smith or Angelia Sparrow. For me these days, that's an afternoon miracle.
So then I was searching every possible corner it could have been auto-saved, trying to remember how I titled the file since the story doesn't have a title yet, and desperately hoping that it wasn't victim to the Great Coffee Catastrophe.
The Coffee Catastrophe. That was the weekend my laptop was drying out on the dining room table. Which meant I was using the other computer. Which means the story is saved on that one.
So I dug it out and emailed the story to myself. Then I remembered that Yahoo Mail is weird, and if you email something to yourself within Yahoo it won't appear in your inbox. I am so switching emails when I get round to it. So I open a different email account and email it to myself. Again.
I open my laptop, and pull email. Ooops. Freedom is still running. No internet. I'm on a timer. There's no way to gently dissuade Freedom; if you say 45 minutes of no internet, that means 45 minutes of no internet. Dangit.
Do I have a thumb drive? Of course not. There are probably eighty-seven in the house, but they hide.
So I kill time. I clean up the desktop and file runaway documents. I look at my email and I've got about 487 emails to go through, 98 percent of which should be in the trash. I really need a new email account.
Freedom informs me that time is up. I can download the file now!
And it is only now that I realize I could have been working on the other computer all this time.
I think I'm too brain-dead to write....
Distracted by internet. So what else is new. I turn on Freedom for Mac and instruct it to shut off my internet for a while.
Freedom reminds me that I'm still in my trial period for this program, which leads to twenty minutes of searching my receipts file because I'm quite sure I paid for it, quite sure indeed, and there's no receipt so maybe I'm just dumb. Fine, turn off my internet, Freedom.
Then I go to find the cemetery story file.
It's not there.
Oh God. That was a good story I had started. It was 1200 words of writing, and that's not much if you're, say, Bryan Smith or Angelia Sparrow. For me these days, that's an afternoon miracle.
So then I was searching every possible corner it could have been auto-saved, trying to remember how I titled the file since the story doesn't have a title yet, and desperately hoping that it wasn't victim to the Great Coffee Catastrophe.
The Coffee Catastrophe. That was the weekend my laptop was drying out on the dining room table. Which meant I was using the other computer. Which means the story is saved on that one.
So I dug it out and emailed the story to myself. Then I remembered that Yahoo Mail is weird, and if you email something to yourself within Yahoo it won't appear in your inbox. I am so switching emails when I get round to it. So I open a different email account and email it to myself. Again.
I open my laptop, and pull email. Ooops. Freedom is still running. No internet. I'm on a timer. There's no way to gently dissuade Freedom; if you say 45 minutes of no internet, that means 45 minutes of no internet. Dangit.
Do I have a thumb drive? Of course not. There are probably eighty-seven in the house, but they hide.
So I kill time. I clean up the desktop and file runaway documents. I look at my email and I've got about 487 emails to go through, 98 percent of which should be in the trash. I really need a new email account.
Freedom informs me that time is up. I can download the file now!
And it is only now that I realize I could have been working on the other computer all this time.
I think I'm too brain-dead to write....
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