On Why You Should Back Up

I don’t exactly need to go looking for an existential crisis, at my age. Simply getting up in the morning is enough. But if there’s one thing liable, in this digital age of ours, to bring the strongest of humans to their knees, it’s the loss of a hard drive. More precisely, its contents. Not that I have lost either. The truth is more embarrassing. You see, in some misplaced fit of geekiness, or tidiness (which is next to geekiness, in the pantheon of pathetic virtues) I thought, yesterday morning, that I would tidy up my hard drive. Specifically, that I would move some 13,000 photos, over a hundred gigabytes worth, from my root directory (you’re impressed, aren’t you, at my technical sophistry?) to my Lightroom folder. From storage in outer darkness, into the warm light of the software┬áin which I craft my images. Tidier, see? More elegant. Except, in Lightroom, you can’t just drag and drop folders willy nilly,

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