Well, I missed Bastille Day, but I just remembered one of the best ever "things could be worse" examples:
You all know, Thomas Carlyle's huge manuscript of The French Revolution was accidentally burned by a servant.
Imagine the appalling pre-carbon-paper vulnerability of writing. And Carlyle's guts in writing the damn thing all over again.
The one gives me a shivery evil thrill-- and the other makes me weak-kneed with admiration.
Anyway, that story makes me know I'm so "lucky, lucky, lucky," as sung operatically by Dawn French [no relation to the revolution].