My peeeeecturrrres!

Yesterday, as I typed furiously on my computer at work, the screen went dark.

There was a noise, a pppbbbfffttt.

And then plumes of smoke rose from the monitor.

Frantically, I dialed the computer tech’s number.

“Uh, yeah. My computer just, like, blew up or something.”

“What?” the puzzled tech asked.

I explained what had happened in more detail.

“You’ve unplugged it, right?” he asked.

“Um …”

“Unplug it,” he instructed. “I’ll be up there in a minute.”

As I waited, I tried to remember what I had stored on that machine. Some work stuff, nothing too important. Some emails and email addresses. Might be a problem.

And my photos!

By the time the tech arrived, I had mentally compiled a list of every photo folder stashed on that computer:

Tootie’s kindergarten graduation.

The E-man’s 5th birthday.

Pictures of my doggie, who died last month.

I trailed after the computer tech, pleading with him to find and salvage my photos.

“That is my life,” I declared as he boarded the elevator. “Please, fix my baby.”

He called a half-hour later.

A new part for my computer was on the way. He could fix my computer just as soon as it arrived.

“And your data’s all here,” he added, “including some file called … well, I don’t know what’s called. It’s just a bunch of characters.”

“Oh!” I chirped. “You mean .lfj.. That’s Tootie’s pre-K graduation. Or maybe it was pre-K. Or maybe …”

The tech laughed politely, wondering, I’m sure, at the priorities of this working mom.

I can always rewrite a story or re-interview a source. What I can’t do is go back in time to recapture all those precious moments my children have brought me.

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