Is it wrong of me to mourn the loss of electronic data?
I have this external hard drive who has worked beautifully for me for the past few years, then randomly, suddenly, horribly it died. Crashed. Corrupted.
I swear it gave me no warning, or if it tried to tell me to get all my stuff off of it ASAP I missed it’s dire prophecies. A few Saturdays ago I went on it to pull up something, I’m not sure what, and discovered that everything inside of my folders was corrupted.
OH SNAP. OHSNAPOHSNAPOHSNAP!
I had YEARS of photographs I had taken on there, with several folders in a folder called “sort me so you can post me”. Okay that’s not really what the title of that folder is, but it’s close enough. So I lost several complete albums. Some got backed up online, most wasn’t. And what IS online probably has a watermark. I do have some on disk. Not many, and not enough.
…at least I have my stories still. That I HAD been smart enough to back up. Yes, the last back-up was in August, but I hadn’t been too productive on them so those versions are pretty much the ‘current’ versions.
I guess I needed to be taught this lesson the hard way: BACK UP OFTEN. Back up NOW.
Good news: I did manage to get some back. Jury is still out on whether or not its safe to turn on my external and see if there’s any more hiding on there, I didn’t get nearly as much as I was expecting back (yet more than I expected at all).
Well, I’m off to either mess around with my folders and files (now on my larger internal hard drive) or hide somewhere and cry. Can’t tell which.