The next day, I upload pictures to add to my already composed post, and found, the draft had been erased. I've read on other blogs about this happening, but never gave much thought that it would happen to me… and I underestimated it's effect.
Now, in the final stage of grief, I've accepted it's gone, but am finding myself, scrapping to write in a setting that is very unlike my previous attempt at posting this week.
Sentences are typed, erased, shifted, retyped, only to be backspaced, and left uncertain. My thoughts are jumbled, unfocused, and easily distracted. The morning is dark, the coffee has yet to be made, and the day… still has the rainy day's cold chill. Interruptions are plenty full and the kid's tempers are flaring, small things are causing big fights, tempers are flaring and I'm pretty sure the fists soon will too.
The house is a disaster, but in the best kind of way. The last few days of sun, have been ceased, with early morning errands, so the days, spent outside, could be enjoyed, late into the night. A delicious taste of what's to come, when the clouds are done shaking out their rain, and the sun secures his more permanent position.
The kids are overtired, Nate's working this weekend, and I've got a lot to get done between now and next weekend, so this morning's rain is welcomed. Lazy mornings, productive days, and movie watching nights.
Despite the feeling of forced writing this morning, I'm banking on the pictures carrying most of the weight on their shoulders, for making this post a successful first step forward, putting the trauma of a great post lost, behind me.
Happy Weekend!
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