Ow. Frickin' ow.

So I was going up the stairs at Morseland, a little too eager, stumbled, jammed my middle finger on my right hand. I type now with it outstretched, unused, throbbing. I was hoping it would have swollen to a ridiculous size so that I could include it in today's photo but that was not to be. Instead, you get this frightening close up (celebrating the release of L4D2? Sure!)

Been thinking about those who used to support this effort who are no longer here. Most notably, mom. Yeah. Last year she was absent on this (she never got my email about it, post-November she was ticked that I hadn't tried again) but in prior years (as I'm sure I've mentioned here) she would write detailed notes, once even read me her notes as I drove her to the airport. Her comments were always wonderful, constructive, funny.... And so. And so.

But there are others, people whose IP addresses don't show up in the stats, and I miss them too.

That said: there are so many wonderful wonderful people out there asking me about word counts, the story, how everything's going, keeping me going on those days when I feel like I really don't want to go on (those don't happen now that I'm over 75% done -- thing just wraps itself up at this point). And so, to all y'all, I say thank you. Very much. Over and over. This thing is like a marathon and without people on the sides telling you what a great job you're doing, a marathon is a lonely-ass experience.

Bah! Today's excerpt? It's all about the importance of constantly backing up your data! Even if it is some undisclosed year in the late 1800s.

The two returned to the office after Dui had finished eating. Dui was keen to go over the notes that Decimal had made that day but they were nowhere to be found. Even at her worst, Estelle had never completely removed documents that were laying around, nor had she ever made the mistake of discarding them.

"Perhaps you put them in the safe?" Dui wondered. Decimal didn't think that was the case but agreed that it was possible he had done so and forgotten. Dui went to the far wall of the room, pushed aside an elaborate replica of a DaVinci sketch which hung, framed and hinged on the wall, obscuring the safe in which they kept all sensitive documents. He opened the safe and pulled their working file from inside. Together, they flipped through each page in the file but could find no trace of the documents which Decimal had worked on that day.

"This is curious indeed," Decimal said. "I'm certain that I did not leave the building with them."

"I wonder if we have been robbed," Dui said with sudden alarm. "Could someone have broken in while we were away, looking for some insight into the system, found only these documents laying out and absconded with them?"

"I suppose it's possible," Decimal allowed. "But did you notice any signs of forced entry when you returned this afternoon?"

"I did not. But, I will admit that I was exhausted, likely weak with hunger, and so jubilant about the success of my meeting with Cutter that it is possible that I overlooked any such signs." Dui sighed, slumped into a chair. "This is terrible. A whole day's work gone." Suddenly hopeful, he gazed up at Decimal, a pleading look on his face. "But wait -- did you not make a back up copy of the pages? You are always so good about making backups."

Decimal frowned. "I'm sorry to say that I did not make any copies. I don't know why I failed to do so today, as you are correct in observing that I am most particular about creating archives of our work in case such an event were to occur. Today, I have failed."

"What a disaster," Dui lamented.

"But, fear not, aside from the graver implications that such a robbery holds -- and I am still not certain that Miss Cabot did not simply relocate or misplace the papers -- I am certain that we can recreate the work I did with minimal effort or loss of time. I shall work deep into the night if I have to."

"I admire and appreciate your dedication to this work, Jonathan," Dui said, the melancholy breaking, if just for that moment. "Really, I do. I know I don't say that often enough, but I wanted to be sure that you knew that."

"Thank you, Melvil," Decimal said gratefully. "It is good to hear that."

"Absolutely, Jonathan. I would still be refining bottled juice if it weren't for you."

"I'm sure that's not true," Decimal chuckled. "But thank you."

"Indeed," Dui replied. "Now, let's get to work."