The Di Dispatches

Life after the Delete button

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By the age of six, I had earned myself the nickname Calamity Jane. Before you gasp in wonder at the image of a gradeschooler standing on a galloping horse and cracking a whip, the sobriquet had much more to do with my unfailing talent to attract disaster.  If there were nicks, cuts, bruises, and stitches to be found in a 10-mile radius, chances are, I would find them all.

accident
Reality…

Through the years, I have graduated to more fun stuff like walking into glass walls, getting mysteriously attached to door handles as I zipped through, and being struck on the head by a cricket ball. Let’s not even count the mysterious bruises, smashed plates, and burnt ‘whatzits’.
But this week, I finally managed to outdo myself. Over the past year, I had maintained a blog where I had written about a lot of things that mattered to me…most of the posts had been private, but those are usually the ones that mean the most. While trying to clean up my dashboard and delete some abandoned blogs, I deleted this one. Fair play to WordPress, they did warn me thrice, but that red button was not to be denied. It was only after I typed in the link and hit delete that I realised it was the blog I wanted to keep. Have you ever had that one moment when all you can hear in your head is ‘GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!’ and your parents saying ‘careful molle (daughter)…look where you’re going…double check’? Well, lesson learned.

But faint heart never won Freshly Pressed, so here I am, back in the saddle, and ready to start all over again…

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Gif inserted only because it conveys how I feel…aesthetics have nothing to do with it at all…

In response to the Daily Prompt Learning

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