My laptop has been missing all day.
At first, I figured that I misplaced it somewhere in my room. Or that one of my kids borrowed it. No worries. I didn’t even look that hard. After all, it will show up eventually. It’s not like it was stolen or anything.
But as the day dragged on and I still did not see it, panic started setting in. It was subtle at first. I was working on my desktop and it hit me: My laptop might actually be gone.
The more I shooed those panic-inducing thoughts away, the stronger they came back an hour later. Then a half hour. Until all I was thinking about was my missing laptop. When was the last time I backed it up? I think I backed it up. I definitely backed it up.
I went on “Find My MAC” and died a little a when I saw that it was offline. I retraced my steps. Carefully reliving that last moment when I dropped my bag in my dining room on Friday afternoon.
I started offering prizes to my kids. “Twenty bucks for whoever finds my laptop!” But as the hours ticked by, I became more desperate: “Find my laptop and you NEVER HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL AGAIN!”
My laptop remained missing.
I suddenly found myself in a terrifying place. I was getting a view of the apocalypse. It was like having my contacts erased from my phone in that moment of terror when you switch from the iPhone 5 to the 6. How many years were put into collecting all those contact numbers so carefully labeled with names like, “Dude”, or “Coffee Shop Guy,” or more importantly, “Psycho – Do Not Answer”?
I was awash in a sea of uncertainty; so much of my life is connected to the documents and photos that are housed in my beloved laptop that the thought of that being gone was just too much to bear. It was paralyzing. It was, I feared, what they meant by The Dark Ages. It was like the fire that destroyed the Library in Alexandria. This is what is meant by the End of Days.
“Find my laptop kids, and I will feed you Ice Cream and French Fries for dinner FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIVES!”
I am fearing the worst. My search and rescue mission has now shifted into a recovery focused on the little black “Passport” that I use to back up my data, Lord knows when. Hopefully some shred of the years that remain on my beloved MacBook can be saved. And maybe, when my housekeeper shows up on Monday morning she’ll miraculously find it and all of this worry will be for nothing. I’ll just laugh about it over some coffee.
Of course she’ll find it.
Or I’ll find it.
Tonight. I will.
Until then, if you need me, I’ll be stockpiling rice and flour.