The Five Stages of Grief Match the Five Stages of “External Hard-Drive Failure”
A few weeks ago, exactly one day before my last final, my Lacie external USB hard-drive crashed. I had been working on an end-of-the-semester mini-montage for my friends (an annual project that I take upon myself for funsies) when my little, rectangular hard-drive started beeping. After hitting my ears and scanning the rooms for bombs, I leaned over to confirm the source of the sound and swiftly ejected the device from my laptop, thinking, perhaps, that it had just overheated. After waiting for a couple of minutes, I plugged the wire back in, and that’s when it happened. Or rather, that’s when it didn’t happen, “it” being the hard-drive icon showing up on my desktop like it usually did. So, like any anxiety-driven, techie amateur, I Googled the situation and found this delightful comment on a Lacie message board:
At that point, something funny happened and my emotions took me on an unpleasant adventure that seemed eerily similar to the Kübler-Ross “Five Stages of Loss and Grief.”
No. It is finals week of the hardest semester of my entire life. I’m making a video for my friends out of the goodness of my heart. I am taking time out of my finals studying schedule to enjoy a trip down memory lane, to try and see past all of the academic misery that I experienced in the past few months. I took a virtual chill pill. I did exactly what everyone told me to do. This can’t be happening. Maybe I plugged it in wrong. Let me experiment with the USB cord for an hour before moving to the next step.
WHY AM I BEING PUNISHED? WHAT DID I DO? I hate this machine. I hate technology. When I live on my own, the first thing I’m doing is buying a filing cabinet so I can keep physical copies of everything. The second thing I’m doing is throwing this hard-drive in a burning, sizzling, bubbling cauldron filled with rat poison and sadness and taking pictures while it DIES A MISERABLE DEATH HA TAKE THAT.
Forget what I said. I didn’t mean it. I was just upset. I don’t really hate you, Lacie. In fact, I love you. And people that love each other do nice things for one another. So maybe, if I just plug you in one more time, do you think you could just…give me back the documents that I gave you a few months ago? You know…all of the essays and pictures from my first two years of college? Or maybe not even all of them, just like, one of them. The one about aliens, or maybe that LOTR essay. Please. I don’t even care about the pictures. Most of them were just of me studying and I can easily recreate those. I’m asking nicely.
No answer? Great. It’s not like I just lost two years of my life or anything. All of those hours spent crouched over my keyboard, trying to explain the importance of 18th century novels and Shakespearean prose…ruined. What am I supposed to show employers now? My HelloGiggles article on Jennifer Lawrence moments? Or how about the one about cats on Christmas? Right. They’ll definitely take me seriously then. There go my dreams for being a professional essay writer. What do you get when you trust technology? Screwed. You get screwed.
It’s not the end of the world, though. I’m sure I can retrieve some essays from my school email account and most of my pictures are backed up on Facebook or iPhoto anyway. I’ll just look at this situation as a learning experience. “Never buy a Lacie hard-drive again.” Or, “never put too much trust in technology that weighs less than 5 pounds, or just technology in general, and definitely don’t do it around finals week.” Thanks, Lacie, for teaching me these valuable life lessons.
You’re still getting the cauldron treatment, though. #SorryI’mNotSorry