Save As and All That Jazz

This morning I’m frustrated.  Again.

It’s a dating problem.  Story of my life.

Ignoring, forgetting, misremembering, a typo.

Each day I save my writing drafts under that day and date,

always absolutely certain I’ve entered them correctly as I hit “save.”

If I want to search for a day and date, I simply type it in

and voila, I and my mind-wanderings back then reunite.

He said.

Strangely, when I do the “save as” my mind seems frighteningly often to drift,

roaming distraction’s range, a sentry on guard for eternity

who only ever spots nothing.

“Often” in the sense of constantly and without surcease.

What I really should do is forget about the day and date and just have an eternally running draft,

one I know started at some time and is current as of today.

What does dating a day’s draft signify anyway?

Some days the writing works better than others.

There’s never necessarily any progress being made.

Good writing is really a random occurrence for me.

Some days I’m on, and some days I should just hit delete.

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