I attended college back in the era of “floppy disks” and one day I got a hard lesson on just how "floppy" these disks were.
One evening, after a grueling day of wrestling with an essay I'd been writing for weeks, what was to be my pièce de la résistance, my magnum opus, and intended to be both my senior thesis AND my entry into a prestigious essay contest, I sat down at my desk to print off my essay so I could submit it the following day and as I clicked the floppy disk into my computer and looked at the contents to find the file to print … nothing. Nada. Rien.
Floppy.
Everything on that disk had been mysteriously obliterated.
So, what did I do? What could I do?
Sitting there at my desk, I simply started over.
The words were fresh; I’d practically memorized the thing.
But this time instead of wrestling with the words and ideas, they tumbled out of my brain and danced through my fingers onto the keyboard fast and fluid. This time it formed more clearly with ideas I hadn’t even thought of the first time. This time, it had soul.
I finished the essay (again).
I graduated with my degree.
I took 1st place in the essay contest.