the moment of truth

I sat in the bathtub this morning and contemplated life without some of my most precious memories. (No, I don`t often take baths in the morning. But my left wrist is still quite sore from the spill and I figured a shot of heat might counteract all the ice I`ve been giving it.) But back to life without those precious memories. I can`t believe what I thought to be a harmless glitch on my external hard drive has become a life-or-death situation for my life`s worth of writing, vacation pictures and god knows what else I haven`t even brought myself to account for just yet. Amy`s coworkers are on the case but the prospects seem grim. Steven Cohen is running some 24-hour retriever software that worked for him some time ago. Still, everyone reminded Amy to tell me that one backup is never enough and suggested several online storage lockers I could rent for five bucks a month. I will not get into the discussion of how I put all my faith into one dumb little box and just how many dumb little boxes and clouds one really needs to feel good about the safety of their information. Not while my baby is still lying there in the operating room. I`m just wondering if I`m destined to live a life without a recorded past. And, by default, without memory.