Chip on Your Shoulder

Yerba Mate

Lady Grey

Prince of Wales

Darjeeling

Pu Li Tea

Jasmine Tea

Lychee Black Tea

White Tea

Orchid Tea

Dragon Well

Ten teas, a list generated by readers of Monday's post, "Tea 4 Me," that explored a writing steeped in the consumption of tea.

Thanks for the feedback.

Now I might need your compassion, though I know I don't deserve it.

Wednesday, just after I'd finished composing a post about procrastination, and (thankfully) saved it, I swiped a half-full cup of tea off the arm of my char. It spilled across the keyboard of my laptop. The tan liquid spread like lava over the keys.

The horror.

Instantly, I upended my machine, sending a cascade of tea onto the floor. I grabbed a roll of paper towels and frantically tried to wipe the keyboard clean and dry.

It didn't take long to realize that drowning a laptop is a fatal stroke. The screen went blank. The "on" button ignored my frantic pressing.

My post was saved, but it soon became clear that was slight consolation. I hadn't backed up my files in more than a month.

The outcome of this disaster remains unclear. My unresponsive machine is now under the care of a computer doctor. if I'm lucky, the tea didn't leach into my hard drive.

So this is a cautionary tale. Computers can be a writer's best friend: repositories of multiple drafts and research. They're blessed with software that has replaced the need to retype entire manuscripts. And perhaps best of all, they put a seemingly infinite library of knowledge at our fingertips.

But none of it matters if you don't back up or don't keep drinks far enough away to avoid my fate.

One plus: it's clear that some of my colleagues read "Chip on Your Shoulder."

After I recounted my woeful tale, one asked, "What kind of tea was it?"

How do you avoid backup disaster?

(And by the way, what kind of tea is inside my laptop?)