Earlier today, I devoted the entirety of my Luncheon hour to writing a journal entry on some recent developments. I wrote the entry, proofread the text, did a quick revision of a paragraph or two, and saved the file to my email account (as I am unable to access my journal from the school`s Server).
Whatever I did, I did wrong… because the file disappeared into the electronic haze of the coaxial cables.
Nearly thirty minutes of work… a rather long time (for me) to devote to a single journal entry. 875 words… gone.
A hasty attempt to retrieve the tone and timbre of the entry was infuriatingly fruitless, and I could only skulk about for the latter part of the afternoon.
Now, having a small portion of my evening whereupon I might cobble together some essence of what was meant to be communicated earlier, I find myself completely and totally blocked.
I cannot write. My frustration has rendered me utterly mute.
So I am not even wasting another moment trying.
I am going to gather my children up, and go for a walk down to the Beach.
We will come home when it gets too dark, and I will make them Supper. After which, we shall read books and play games together.
Their mother will be home by around Bedtime, and we shall spend some time together before I surrender to sleep.
Perhaps… perhaps, things will be better tomorrow.