It felt like someone was playing a practical joke on me. The only problem was, no one stepped from behind a secret door and yelled gotcha. Instead, I was sitting at my laptop with my skin burning, as random thoughts ran through my head. How could my post disappear from my blog?
I remember putting the final touches to the post together. Making sure I’d spelled the names right, and fact check. Adding the photo, the author so graciously gave, was the last thing I did before sending out the link I published. Somehow these links lead to a rough draft, instead of a blog post I put so much time in effort into. It looked like I threw something together with no thought or respect for the topic. No wonder, I never received a response from the author.
I searched through my computer; nothing. I searched my blog; I found nothing. “3 lessons From The Bomb Life By Claire Sulmers,” was missing. At least the final draft was, but the rough draft was somehow linked to the links I’d shared. How in the hell, that happened?
If it sounds like a nightmare, all I can say is, I wish it was, but it was much worse, it was my reality.
Embarrassed is an understatement. Angry, just scratch the surface of what I was feeling. I didn’t know what to do. After looking everywhere for my final draft, I took a deep breath. I cringed at the thought of who read the first draft and laughed at the idea that I am a writer.
I thought, was I tired when I worked on this? Did someone hack my blog? The devil is busy. Did I press the wrong thing on my WordPress app and it deleted the final draft? But, why can’t I find my final draft on my computer? I didn’t know what happened. Until this day, I don’t know. All I do know is, if there was ever a moment I wanted to crawl under a rock and not come out, it would have been that night. My heart stopped; at least it felt that way. I screamed. I ranted to my husband. And when the tears started to well up in my eye sockets, I went back to my laptop and began to write. What else could I do? I for sure couldn’t go to sleep. Traumatized, I was up until 2 AM, racking my brain over vague details.
I still wish someone would tell me, I am on some hidden camera, TV show, and the final draft is on my blog. That the author didn’t comment on the post because she was busy. Not because the post sucked. I wish I would wake up, check my blog, and realize it was all a nightmare. Trust me, I’ve been checking every day since that dreary night with no luck.
I know, we all make mistakes and the best thing to do is learn from them. If I was in a better mood, I would write, “5 ways to prevent weird stuff from happening to you while you blog your way to the top.” But I am not. To tell the truth, I don’t even have one way. It seems like the harder I try, the more bloopers I have, go figure.
That’s a writer’s life, I guess. Mistakes happen, then you learn from them? Maybe, one day I will write a list of things I learned from this mistake. But right now, I am licking my wounds and trying to remember that this means I am human.
Photo Credit: Canva.com