So…in case you didn’t notice, portions of the Sex, Life, & Hannah website kind of disappeared on Sunday and Monday. Yup, I got hacked.
Panic set it. Had I backed up any of the content that was missing? Probably not. And how long would it take for me to recreate about 15 pages worth of content…and all those links, and pictures, and videos?
The closer I got to my client’s office the more my brain started spinning with what-ifs. Even though it hadn’t appeared as though any of my blog posts had been deleted, what if the hackers weren’t done yet and were going to continue deleting the entire afternoon I was away from my computer. Restoring 15 pages: possible. Restoring nearly 400 blog posts: not possible. I almost turned around and called in sick.
A couple hours later, relief. Godaddy told me there were some options for restoring my database, and it would at most cost me $150. I signed up immediately.
Driving home later that day, I continued to contemplate the worst case scenario. What if, by slim chance, Godaddy wasn’t able to restore my site and I’d lost everything. I started thinking about my sister’s favorite quote: If anything leaves your life, it’s because it was useless and something better is on its way. I contemplated losing everything, and whether this would be a sign to immediately stop what I was doing; the blogging, posting, writing, twittering, and publishing.
“Would it really matter anyway?” I imploded on hubbie when I got home and checked Sex, Life, & Hannah, pages of content still missing, “who would really care?”
“Throwing a pity party doesn’t suit you,” he retorted.
“Why? Do you really think I know what I’m doing with all this stuff, and I’ve got it all figured out, and it’s working in mysterious ways that are just not quantifiable right now?” I believed in pushing for what you wanted, but I also believed in signs from the Universe.
“No, but you’re too upbeat and too hard-working to be throwing a pity party.” He turned the hot water of the shower on. “And what if you’re right, what if nobody cares. It wouldn’t change the fact that your writing is good, and your books are great, and you love doing this.”
He was right. My content was worth something. Maybe even a lot. And maybe I hadn’t quite figured it out just yet, but that was no reason to throw a pity party. Calmness and reason set in.
Back-up your content people.