My flash drive is missing. I'm not kidding. This is something I've dreaded for about, oh, I don't know, five years? It has everything from my freshmen, sophomore, junior, and senior year. And I'm a writer.
My portfolio of work has greatly been diminished. So yes, I'm a little down. For a person who is generally pregnant on ideas -- it's like I've ultimately miscarried.
Terrible, I know. But if anything my friends, make sure to know what is precious to you and track it appropriately or it will fall victim to the big nasty world and you'll have no idea what sick person will take it into their hands and what they will do with it. Sure, this isn't a person missing, not a dog, or anything with a heartbeat. But it's my work. Surely it will turn up, right?
If not, let this be a post in remembrance of all the work I have done and to better years of writing and organization. I've written monologues about senile old women who think they're wolf trainers, time traveling high school students bent on resurrecting classical historical figures, papers on Metropolis and Lady Gaga, spec scripts for Psych and Glee, one full-length script and a short that I'm hoping to make happen this coming summer. Everything... lost. I spent all that time, and lost it.
Granted most of it has been graded and I should move on -- but wow.
Flash drive come home. Come home sooner than later.
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