Writing Setback

It all started when spell check wasn’t working on my laptop. I’d spent two days weaving words into a couple of solid chapters. I loved how the story was unfolding, proud of the twists and turns I’d built in. The dialog was engaging and the plot was flowing. But my nemesis, called perfection, couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie. Nope. I had to stop and make sure there were no spelling or grammatical flaws in what I’d recently written. 
But spellcheck was finding no errors. How could that be? The realist in me knew that was impossible after two full days of writing. Realizing there must be an issue, I reached out to the wizard of all things, my number one answerer of all questions, Google. The old wise sage of the internet suggested a shutdown to re-engage spell/grammar check. So, I immediately followed that advice, shut down my computer, restarted it, and quickly called my document back up to try it again. 
And….drum roll, please……..it was still not working. Deciding I’d wasted enough time troubleshooting the issue, I decided I would worry about spell check later, and get back into the writing rhythm before I lost my mojo. I hurried to the end of my document, excited to pick up where I’d left off. Except, the end of the document wasn’t where I’d left off. The page count showed 168 pages. That wasn’t right! I was already 200+ pages into my masterpiece. I checked previous versions. The last date it recognized any updates was two days prior. 
Auto-save is always on. In fact, as I type these words I can see “saving” is flashing on my screen. So, back to Google, searching, “most recent changes not saving in Google docs on HP Chromebook to look for solutions”. I try all the suggestions, but my latest updates are nowhere to be found. On my last valiant Google search, I found an article that pretty much says, “Hey, if you tried these things and none of them worked, sorry, but you’re SOL."
I scream out loud. I raged at the writing Gods above. My husband hurried into my office, worried I may have accidentally stabbed a letter opener in my eye, or stapled my hand to the desk, or somehow suffered some other random office accident. He finds me pacing the floor, yelling, “No. No. No!” He tiptoes back out of the room before I turn the bad words I’m now spewing in his direction. I continue to try to find solutions. He tiptoes back in again, several times, asking, “Any luck?” After about his fifth trip, receiving my “no” and ugly glares in answer to his inquiries, he quietly mumbles, “That sucks”, and mentions there’s somewhere he has to be before tiptoeing back out and leaving the house. And probably the town. And the county. Anxious to put some distance between me and my dour mood.
After hours of trying to restore my lost words, and cursing the computer, and myself, I finally decide to handle it like any reasonable person. I closed my laptop and walked away. I went in search of high calorie junk food and a Hallmark movie. 
That was eight days ago. Eight days since I have touched my manuscript. The sting is finally starting to dull, and I think it’s time to stop licking my wounds and get my fingers back on that keyboard. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I probably can't recreate the words exactly as I had them, but I will just have to do my best. Because that’s what we do after we learn a tough lesson. We pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and get back in the saddle. I will never trust that auto-save message again. I’ll copy to another document, close that new document, reopen it, make sure it's saved, and then, and only then, will I shutdown my laptop. Learn from my miserable experience, dear friends. Don’t assume that because words exist on your screen, they will exist later. Lesson learned. Onward and upward.