Other worldly goods

Today is officially 5 working days since our stuff was picked up by some strangers from a moving company and taken to some warehouse somewhere to be moved to Melbourne 5 working days latter.
So far...nothing.  After it didn't arrive on Thursday like they had originally suggested, they said it would be here by Tuesday at the latest.  That is tomorrow- 6 business days after our stuff was taken.
I am fairly confident it will arrive, but I am still very much freaking out.

Several people (mainly Tim) have commented to me that I shouldn't be so worried about "worldly goods".

But it's not worldly goods that I am worried about.  It's "other-world"ly goods.  My Novel.

The most updated version of my novel is currently trapped on a computer in a box held by strangers and I'm FREAKING OUT!!!!!

I know, I know.  I should have backed it up.  But I did.  We have a special backing up machine that backs up everything on my computer.  The problem is the special backing up machine is in the same box as the computer!

I was planning to back up to drop box on the Wednesday before our move, but as I arrived home- my efficient husband had already packed the computer before I could.

I have never been particularly attached to material goods.  I have things that I love, but as much as I hoard, they are not the things that I treasure.  I treasure words.  The letter Tim read to me when he proposed.  The stories I wrote when I was younger.  My diaries from my teenage years.  And my stories.  No matter how much I might cringe at things I have written in the past, words are important to me and I keep them.

Now, in the worst case scenario that on the 6th business day since taking our stuff, a terrible fire burns it all- I do have versions of my story from July.  I have the notebook in which I made the notes that became many of the things that I wrote since then.  This half of the year I have not had the time to work on my story like I did in the first half.  It wouldn't be the end of the world.  But it would be pretty devastating- to see 6 months worth of work go down the drain.  And strangely it is losing the words which I worked so hard to write, which is far more painful than the idea that I would have to do my best to write them again.

When I read my Novel I have two reactions.  Sometimes I think it is a load of rubbish and am convinced I ever no one would ever like to publish or even read it.  Other times I read it and think it is actually getting good.  That maybe there is a future for me in this authoring business after all.

But no matter what I think about it, it is always mine and it is always precious.  It is a record of time spend in a wonderful world of thinking and imagining and discovering.  And I re-enter that world every time I re-read it.

Oh Story, please be alright!
love BG