This was supposed to be my first post. And I guess it still is. But I had a gigantic post all ready. Wrote it right in here. Then I decided to copy it and paste it into my text editor just in case I lost it. Clicked on Command-A, to select all, and my browser quit on me. Okay, I admit, I probably hit Command-Q. So it's my fault. But I saw the browser going whoosh and disappearing and started crying like a baby.
Hoping beyond all hope that Firefox remembered what I had last typed, I opened it again. Great! It loaded the title. Awesome! It even loaded my keywords. But right here, where it says Blog Entry… completely blank. A fresh white page to fill in with all my deepest darkest memories. But I already did that!
And now I don't have time to blog, because I have to go clean up the house. I have to clean up all those things that I threw all over the place. The broken vases must be swept up. The pieces of food picked out of the crannies and the sticky drinks mopped from the floor. I might even have to get my hand splinted from the karate chop I did on our coffee table.
In this day and age of amazing technological things, why the hell doesn't Red Room have the ability to save drafts of blog posts that you are working on? This may come across as super snarky, but Gaddarnit, isn't it true? I mean, my own personal Wordpress blog has that ability. I can always go back and rework something. But this überprofessional blog site doesn't?
Okay, it's all my fault for hitting the wrong button. But wouldn't it be in this site's interest to want to save what people are saying? Wouldn't it be better for them if they made these things foolproof. I mean us writers, we ain't always technonerds. We do know about backing things up, but gosh, if we don't even have that option, what are we supposed to do?
Since this is all I'm able to think of right now, I'm counting this as my first memory. Maybe if I come out of this angry stupor, I might be able to look back a few more minutes. I might be able to rewrite the post. I might even be able to share my more distant memories of being a kid on a spy base in northern England.