MeltDown

I headed into class, my precious paper clutched in my hand. I had fought a bloody battle for this one, and I turned it in with fierce pride. Its not that writing papers is difficult. In fact, it's just a matter of applying one's self to the assignment at hand. They pretty much tell you exactly what to write about. I drop their instructions into outline form, then fill in the paragraphs from my notes and readings.

This semester writing took a step up to the next level over the last class's papers. For the last class, we wrote 5 pages every week. You got into a stride and pumped it out on demand. This year we write 10 pages every other week, and I have yet to find my stride. I intend to write half the paper one week, the other half the week its due. But that hasn't happened yet. I still hold out hope. There is more to sort through, more primary documents to process, a wider range of philosophies, histories, peoples to consider.

Still, its a matter of creating the outline from the assignment and filling in the paragraphs, but you have to think harder about it now. I created the outline in my office one night after work, and emailed it to myself. Saturday morning I got a jump start on the paper while the boys snored peacefully in their room. It was quiet, and I made good progress. I saved after every paragraph like a good student should, confident that I would be able to finish the paper after my shift at the library in the afternoon.

Around noon the boys roused and I needed to get ready for work, so I closed the document and tried to email it to myself, planning to stay after work and finish it from the solitude of my office. That's funny, I can't seem to find the document. Maybe I saved it under a different name or in a different folder. I searched methodically through everything I had on the laptop (not much).

This can't be right. I know I saved as I was working. What is going on? The more I searched, the more frantic I became. I looked in my recent documents, my folder, my desktop - everywhere I could think of. Then I did a search under what I was sure I had saved it as. Nothing. Now I am beside myself. Five hours of slaving over a laptop and six completed pages wasted.

I finally find the file under Temporary Internet Files, but alas, there is nothing there except the outline I started with. Information Technology will not be open again until Monday, so even if there is a remote chance of recovery, I cannot afford to wait. There is no help for it. I realize with a sinking feeling that I was out of luck. I would have to recreate the whole thing, throw away those hours, begin again, miss out on finishing my reading, stay behind after work until midnight.

I have to admit I did my share of hair pulling and pleading with God to help me find that darn paper. Ah, me. I hate when that happens. After I got to work, my equilibrium got restored. It was busy at the desk, and when I finally had a chance to work on the paper, it mostly came back. In fact, I think the second version was a bit better than the first.

I cannot tell you how glad I am that this was not my doctoral dissertation. I have learned my lesson. When you email yourself a document, save TO THE LAPTOP, don't use the temporary email file. What a silly goose. I should know better than that. Good thing I wasn't finishing up in the eleventh hour and had time to recreate.

I will say though, that you learn a lot about yourself when you are in a crisis. I'd like to think I am more mature than I was ten years ago, but a meltdown is a meltdown. Just goes to show I have a lot of work to do to be the person I ought to be. Even meltdowns are good for something.