I had two hours to write this afternoon, if I was a good girl and buckled down to do it. I was planning to be a very good girl because I've been working on revising a story. Working for quite a long time on this revision.
I got onto my computer, and looked at all the files on my desktop. Then I looked again.
I can't find it anywhere.
The only explanation I can come up with, is my son, who uses the computer for school and so is on it more than anyone else, must have done something with my precious, precious story. It's a good thing my son is gone right now, because if he were home, I would probably scald his face with my scathing words of accusation.
As it is, I will allow my words time to cool. Unless he really is guilty of making me redo all my hard work. In which case, I will bring those words back to a boil and let them fly!