Apparently the cat (or at least her fluffy bottom) is fooled by the "new" Mac. Thinks it's the same one I've always had.
But it's easy to tell the difference when I turn it on, and I don't mean just the newer operating system. Yesterday I got about 60% of the way through converting the backup files for the first novel (which I realized I saved in sections and not individual chapters, thankfully!), and while I am thrilled at what I am finding, I am still very sad (all right, P.O.'d) as I continue to compile the list of missing sections and edits. "Missing" meaning that they happened in the past year or so, and could be found only on the hard drive that may or may not be recovered.
It sucks that as of right now, they don't exist. The interesting thing is that just this morning one new scene sprang into my head, a new bridge between something I have (sort of, with a few new tweaks I remember fairly well) and something I lost (but for which I may have retained the notes and also of which I remember a few fragments).
Sometimes writing isn't about creating. Sometimes it's about forgetting your old plans, picking up the pieces, and rebuilding.