Charlie, my husband and most tremendous pal, says there is no such thing as an inanimate object–that every blasted one of the “machines” in this sweet old world are periodically out to get us!

No, he’s not paranoid, just experienced. And this weekend, when my computer failed to save a whole afternoon’s worth of sound editing and script writing, I was ready to agree with him.

This is what happened. I’m on deadline on a national story, so I make myself keep slogging Friday afternoon when I am dog-tired. I save the files, slap them on my zip-drive, take them home to finish up, and Saturday morning they are just not there! Worse–when I drove into town to check–it wasn’t on my work computer either.

If I weren’t a committed sober person, I would have lost the whole weekend to unproductive frustration, and so ended up at work this morning seriously behind on my story. As a committed sober person, however, I took a deep breath and went to work rewriting, reediting, re-everything. No, I did not do it with joy in my heart, but neither did I do it harboring rage there, either.

I could feel myself using the program. I swear, being a sober drunk and recovering pill-popper has had so many advantages–at least in my experience. I’ve learned not to be so reactive to life’s little punches in the gut–even when those machines just might be out to get me!