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Stages of Computer Loss
Apr. 7th, 2011 12:04 amAbout a month ago, I spilled coffee on my laptop. And then, obviously, I freaked the fuck out. As one does.
Because that computer had my LIFE on it. I study digital culture, but I don't think I truly appreciated the concept of an information economy until I lost the information I owned. I had most of it backed up, but nothing from the most recent month: all the work for school, the music I had bought, the audio project that took hours of work, all my emails, gone.
I went back and forth between morosely proclaiming, "My computer is broken," and "My computer is dead." Broken didn't seem to encompass the the finality of it, nor justify all my huffy puffy panic. Dead felt a little dramatic, but my panic was kind of EPIC PRPORTIONS at that point, and even the significant other was refraining from making fun of me, which is a bad, bad sign. So I, in all my emo frantic-ness, wrote out a grieving process for my laptop. Because it seemed like the thing to do.
Because that computer had my LIFE on it. I study digital culture, but I don't think I truly appreciated the concept of an information economy until I lost the information I owned. I had most of it backed up, but nothing from the most recent month: all the work for school, the music I had bought, the audio project that took hours of work, all my emails, gone.
I went back and forth between morosely proclaiming, "My computer is broken," and "My computer is dead." Broken didn't seem to encompass the the finality of it, nor justify all my huffy puffy panic. Dead felt a little dramatic, but my panic was kind of EPIC PRPORTIONS at that point, and even the significant other was refraining from making fun of me, which is a bad, bad sign. So I, in all my emo frantic-ness, wrote out a grieving process for my laptop. Because it seemed like the thing to do.
It went like this.