Monday, September 21, 2009

Instantaneous Ennui

Here is the spot in which was supposed to be a post....

A Very Fine Post Indeed, as a matter of fact.

I busied myself this morning in the writing of this post while waiting for documents to upload to a work server. The waiting can take a while, and so I was at liberty to craft a post with much more care than I normally take. Many words were thrown together in an orgy of expression, then massaged gently until synchronous expostulations were reached. Oh, yes, all that concomitant expostulating made one fine post that 1) stayed on topic, 2) only had ONE topic (a rarity here), 3) was humorous without one single TOUCH of snippiness, and, almost incomprehensibly (and yet with a masterful touch) 4) incorporated not only my childhood dreams but also mention of expensive shoes and sycophants.

It was, to be honest, one of the best posts I've done in quite some time indeed.

With a happy heart I pressed the 'publish' button and waited for the fruits of my efforts to be offered up to the quivering lips of the internet. It was, quite simply, a moment awash in satisfaction.

And then?

Blogger ate it.


When I say 'ate it,' please understand that I mean ATE IT ate it, as in 'not even saved as DRAFT' ate it. There was a total and complete failure of the system to save those newborn phrases, to fight for their lives within the womb of the intenet. My post was involuntarily aborted, y'all, and I'm in deep deep mourning for what could have been.

Oh, how you would have chuckled at my jokes, and how you would have been wooed by the turns of phrase that so were skillfully crafted they were utterly straight-backed and clear-eyed in their beauty. But no, it now cannot be that you might chuckle or be woo'ed, for Blogger is the baby-killer of unborn posts.

Pardon me as I grieve.

Friends, please support me in my hour of darkness by leaving an expression of condolence in the comments. When I feel up to it, I shall read them and smile wistfully at your generosity, then hope for a better day tomorrow as I wipe perfectly formed tears from my grief-flushed cheeks.

I thank you, in advance, for your warmhearted understanding.


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