After my first successful reanimation of my crashed hard drive, I tried several more times on Sunday, getting in once and getting a few more files that I thought I wanted. Every tech person's suggestions about this kind of situation mention that sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't -- and that therefore you should try more than once. But exactly how many times, I wonder. How many more files that are on the dead drive do I really absolutely need?
The answer, of course, is none of them. There is nothing life-saving or career-essential or even sentimentally important that I don't have, since I was able to get my financial data, the latest notes and drafts for two articles, and all my pictures. But as every mad scientist tempted by the power to control an animated corpse would tell you, you just keep coming up with reasons to try and turn the monster back on. The graphic design project I did for a friend, some PDFs from interlibrary loan, etc, etc.
Sooner or later, I'm going to just have to accept that it's really and truly dead, and that anything that wasn't backed up is gone. I suppose it's all really a lesson about responsibility, and guilt, and regret. I'm not someone who engages in much regret, mostly because I take a really long time to make decisions. Now I know what it feels like.
OK, and Universe? I'm listening. I'm going to get my life in order. Please don't send me any more messages like this because I'm really and truly working on it.
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