It was another day at work, just like the thousands that had preceded it, and most likely the thousands that would follow. I looked at the wall of computers, mostly laptops, but some desktops and all-in-ones.
Computer 7 on the bench had the usual data backup, and repair, paperwork. “Copy the data on the computer to an external hard disk, and then fix the computer.” I’d lost count years ago of how many times I’d had to do that. Plug in the repair system flash drive, boot the computer to it, and not to Windows (or what was left of Windows), and use the repair environment to copy the data.
I wasn’t surprised at all when I brought up the data copying program, and it told me there was nothing on the hard disk. I sighed, and automatically closed the copying program and started the Seagate Data Recovery program, to see if it could find any deleted data on the computer.
After three minutes of trying, the Seagate program popped up it’s message, “Drive to damaged. Can’t recover.”
I told the other repair technician, “They ran the computer until it stopped.”
“And they never backed up anything.”
“They just lost all the pictures of their grand-babies.”
“They’ll scream. And cry. And get all emotional, won’t they.”
“I block out the screams, you know.”
“So do I. Now. Call them with the good news.”
I grimaced, and picked up the phone.
It’s Week 382 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Since the prompt reminded me of work, I wrote a story about work. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who show up weekly.