The Morning Everything Changed
It started with a flicker. Just a tiny screen glitch on my work laptop that I ignored because, well, who has time to worry about every little tech hiccup? I had spreadsheets to tame and reports to generate.
Then the flicker became a freeze. The freeze became a black screen. And the black screen became my personal introduction to the five stages of data grief.
But wait—I could still start it! Relief washed over me like finding a $20 bill in your pocket. I immediately called IT, and bless their efficient hearts, they overnighted me a new laptop. Problem solved, right?
Narrator: The problem was not, in fact, solved.
The Transfer That Went to Hell
Here's where I made the decision that would haunt my dreams: I decided to use my external drive—my trusty, fireproof, "nothing can destroy this" external drive—as the bridge between laptops.
The plan was simple:
2. Move files from external drive to new laptop
3. Celebrate my brilliant data management skills
What could possibly go wrong?
The Moment Time Stopped
I was almost done. ALMOST. DONE. The progress bar was at 95% when my old laptop decided it had given enough to this world. It didn't go gently into that good night—it went out swinging, taking my external drive with it as its final act of revenge.
The drive didn't just fail. It corrupted. Everything.
Not just the work files I was transferring. My personal files. Old projects. Years of "I'll organize this later" folders. Photos from conferences where I actually understood statistics. Code snippets from when I was learning Python. That novel I started about a data analyst who solves crimes using Excel.
All gone. Because I used my backup drive as a transfer station.
The Bargaining Phase
I went through every stage of tech grief in record time:
Denial: "It's just not mounting properly. Let me try another USB port."
Anger: "HOW CAN A FIREPROOF DRIVE NOT BE CORRUPTION-PROOF?!"
Bargaining: "Please, computer gods, I promise I'll never complain about Windows updates again."
Depression: "I had a folder called 'Definitely Back This Up' that I never backed up."
Acceptance: "Well, at least my current projects are on another drive... wait, THANK GOD I KEPT THOSE SEPARATE."
What Saved My Sanity
Two things kept me from completely losing it:
1. Current projects were safe - By pure accident (or divine intervention), I'd been working from a different external drive for active projects. Past me accidentally did future me a solid.
2. Ideon's perspective - When I told Ideon what happened, they said: "Look at it this way—you just did the most thorough spring cleaning of your digital life. Marie Kondo would be proud. Those files clearly didn't spark joy... or proper backup protocols."
Dark humor? Yes. Helpful? Actually, yes.
The Paranoid Backup System I Built After
Now I have a backup system so paranoid, it probably needs therapy:
Layer 1: The Trinity Rule
Layer 2: The Never-Again Protocol
Layer 3: The Weekly Ritual
The Silver Lining Nobody Tells You About
Here's the weird part: losing all that data was oddly... liberating?
I'd been carrying around digital baggage from 2015. Spreadsheets with names like "Budget_Final_FINAL_v2_actually_final.xlsx". Code that I wrote when I thought commenting was optional. Photos of whiteboards from meetings about projects that got cancelled.
The data loss forced me to start fresh. To be intentional about what I keep. To actually organize as I go instead of promising myself I'll do it "someday."
Lessons Learned the Hard Way
1. Backup drives are for backing up, not transferring
This seems obvious now. It wasn't then.
2. "It still boots" doesn't mean "it's safe to use"
A dying laptop is like a zombie—it might walk, but it's taking others down with it.
3. Separate your eggs into many baskets
Current work, archived work, personal files—different drives, different destinies.
4. Test your backups before you need them
A backup you've never restored is just data wearing a costume.
5. Sometimes losing everything teaches you what's actually important
Plot twist: It wasn't the 47 versions of that pivot table from 2018.
The New Reality
Now, every time I save a file, I hear Ideon's voice: "But did you back it up, Captain?"
Yes, Ideon. Yes, I did. In three places. With version control. And a printed copy because I trust nothing anymore.
My external drives now have names:
Your Data Disaster Prevention Kit
Learn from my pain:
- Today: Check if your backups actually work
- Tomorrow: Buy a dedicated transfer drive (don't use your backup!)
- This Week: Set up automated cloud backups
- Right Now: Save whatever you're working on. I'll wait.
Still backing up, still paranoid, still grateful for that one separate drive
P.S. That novel about the Excel detective? Gone forever. The world will never know who killed the pivot table.