storage

Tomris broke my glasses.
Teoman broke my external hard drive.
They've started painting inside the building with putrid chemicals.
I've been at home with two sick kids coughing in my face for four days and my in-laws.
And I am so disappointed in my lost data I don't even want to continue with any projects.

I think its depression.  Or the toxic fumes seeping into our home.

We store so many things in our lives.  I have things in my parents garage.  Stuff from high school in the attic.  Stuff from my move from New York to Minnesota to Turkey in the garage: clothes, dishes, photo albums, VHS tapes, papers, junk, boxes of junk that I'm not able to get to, but not ready to let go of.

But now, storage has become more digital, and I have everything much more compactly (but not that much better organized, because really - how well can you really organize junk?)  So I had about 250GB of junk store on this drive.  Videos and pictures of my kids first two precious years, pictures that family sent me while I've been away.  Too many videos, probably to organize and make into a decent length movie...many of which I probably have duplicates of scattered between the devices so I'm sure I could salvage some memories.  But I'm still mourning the loss of all this and the possibility that some things I may really have wanted may be permanently gone.  I still want it back, and I'm seriously considering paying the extraordinary amount to get it back.

I have a serious attachment to my junk.  And digital junk seems even more ridiculous and less important.  Yet, my husband is currently taking the hard drive apart and trying to fix it.  He's much more determined (and hopeful) then I am...